


At The Edge Of Darkness

by SimpleJon



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Frontier, Original Work
Genre: Beauty and the Beast Elements, Blood, Blood Drinking, Dark Fairy Tale Elements, Elemental Magic, Evil Plans, F/M, Human/Monster Romance, Loss of Control, Major Original Character(s), Mild Blood, Minor Original Character(s), Monsters, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Original Fiction, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 38,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26323756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimpleJon/pseuds/SimpleJon
Summary: In a Digimon Frontier-esque setting, Taylor is the only Digidestined in the group who hasn't uncovered her Digital Spirit. Her inability to Digivolve has sparked tensions in the group, constant fights erupting between those who think she's too weak to be a part of the Digidestined and those who still have hope for her. She attempts to find a brief reprieve from the fighting, but in doing so, finds herself desperately lost. Two seemingly friendly Digimon promise they can help find the way back to her friends, but they have other plans in mind. They trick her into following them to their cruel Master, Myotismon. In his castle, she finds herself at the crux of some malicious plot, the fate of her independence and the entire Digital World hanging in the balance. Though her friends try desperately to track her down, they might not be fast enough to pull her back from The Edge Of Darkness.
Relationships: Myotismon/OC
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	At The Edge Of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> Authors note: This fic is set in a loose Frontier setting, but isn't meant to be 1:1 with the show's mythos-- it's a bit of a mix of my fave Digimon themes/characters/worldbuilding. Content warnings for slight non-con themes, controlling partners, and vampire stuff.

Taylor stood, staring out the window, gripping a pole for stability as the floor shook beneath her. The Trailmon rumbled on, the wilderness outside the window flying by, trees blurring together into a mass of green pixels.

“We’re all in this together, David. You’re part of a _team_ now,” Dominique raised her voice. The conversation was getting heated. “That means you have to listen to other people sometimes! We can’t go splitting into factions. So sit down and shut up. Quit starting fights for no reason.”

Taylor appreciated that Dominique was standing up for her, but hated that she’d put this burden on anyone. It didn’t matter how much the others spoke platitudes about how they were a team and they would do this together, she knew David was right-- she was the weakest link, and the group was better off without her. 

Taylor was the only one of them who hadn’t found her Digital Spirit. The others were able to evolve and transform into incredible, powerful, beautiful creatures, while Taylor was still only a soft and defenseless human. She knew she’d been a massive liability in the past several fights-- while she’d been able to stay out of the way and not get killed, as the one Digidestined that was still utterly defenseless, she’d become the obvious target. After all, if you could kill even _one_ of the Digidestined, they’d apparently be unable to complete their mission and the world would be surrendered to the Darkness.

That’s what they’d been calling it, the Darkness. It was cliche, and not very descriptive, but it was a decent way to refer to the general social decay and hopelessness that overtook regions under its siege, especially since they hadn’t yet figured out who was causing all of it and thus had no name to put to the destruction. So the Darkness it was.

And it was their job to stop it, hypothetically.

Before all this, they’d just been average 20-somethings. Or 30-somethings, in the case of David. He was the oldest, and constantly butted heads with Dominique, the clear leader of the group. She could transform into the Spirit of Flame-- Stygiomon, a digimon that was all muscle and fire, with dinosaurian features and a long tail with a deadly blade on its tip. Dominique had worked as a manager at WalMart, and her skills of de-escalation, problem-solving, and managing people when they were at their worst had proved crucial to the strength of their little group.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/190150326@N08/50312482031/in/dateposted-public/)

Darius had been the next to gain his Digital Spirit. He was the Spirit of Light-- Halomon, a great bird that could barely be seen for the luminescence that shone from its many wings, which clutched a massive golden ring in its talons, encircling his body like a halo. It reminded Taylor of old testament angels, both horrific and beautiful to behold. Darius had been a physics student, though his true passion was music. Taylor and Darius had stayed up late one night, talking around the campfire while everyone else slept fitfully around them. She cherished the memory. While most other members of the group looked on her with pity as of late, some with thinly-veiled disgust, Darius seemed to genuinely think she would be capable of greatness, too.

Then had come Sophia. She was the youngest of the group at 19, and was about to head into her second year as an undergraduate when all this started. At first, she’d been very much like Taylor, nervous that she had nothing to contribute, her self-esteem almost nonexistent. But she’d come into her own in recent weeks. She could transform into Myceliamon, the Spirit of Wood, a beautiful fairy-like fungus woman with a skirt reminiscent of a veiled lady mushroom. The spirit changed her body, but it seemed to also be changing who she was, a new confidence creeping in around the edges of her personality even when she was human.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/190150326@N08/50311837603/in/dateposted-public/)

Next was Javier. Javier was quiet, but whenever he spoke, it was because he had something important to say. He’d been a park ranger on Earth and his wilderness experience had come in handy since day one. He was always able to find fresh water, to point out edible plants and fruit (what few were recognizable here), and he could start a fire in minutes flat using only sticks and leaves, though the group had found fire not difficult to come by in a world full of monsters with strange elemental powers. Javier’s was the Spirit of Lightning-- Bombardiermon, a humanoid with insectine features and an exoskeleton of metallic armor, six limbs protruding from its sleek segmented torso, the few spots of visible flesh red and raw.

David had been next. He was the worst in the group by far. Most problems came from David constantly trying to take charge, or fighting with Dominique over what should be done. Besides that, he was just petty, constantly trying to rank their Digital Spirits in terms of ability and root out who was weakest. That wasn’t very hard these days, though, since Taylor was obviously the weakest. He’d been some sort of project manager at an important white-collar job. Taylor kept forgetting what it actually was-- it always went in one ear and out the other. Whatever he did, it made him feel like he had some sort of authority here, much to everyone’s detriment. Even their two Digimon companions could barely stand the man, and it was their _job_ to be friends with the Digidestined. He was the Spirit of Stone, Elasmon, a fitting match for someone so stubborn and set-in-his-ways. His Digital form was rhinocerine, with a great stone horn growing his rocky faceplate, a club-tail making him formidable from both front and back.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/190150326@N08/50311838458/in/dateposted-public/)

Then came Harish, the jokester of the group. At first, David and Harish had been at each others’ throats without end, with Harish constantly ribbing the easily-angered older man. But once Harish had received his Spirit and managed to gain David’s respect, they became almost friends. Taylor didn’t appreciate the way he’d had been looking at her lately, like she was below him, like everything David said was true and she was weighing down the group. Harish had been imbued with the Spirit of Water, his Digital form a Poseidon-esque humanoid clad in oceanic armor, chest bare, a curling fishtail where legs should be. A massive shark head helmet concealed his features. Or perhaps the shark head operated as some sort of organic exoskeleton, it was hard to tell with Digimon. He’d been a construction worker on Earth, making him the strongest of the group when not transformed.

And finally, there was Valentina. Though she was the second-to-last to receive her Digital Spirit, it hadn’t bothered her in the least. Confidence radiated from Valentina. And she was an excellent motivator, always picking up others when they were feeling less-than. She always had a kind word for Taylor, though it had been helping less and less these days. Valentina had been in school for forensic pathology while also caring for her two younger siblings. She was a very hard-working woman, and with a blindingly sharp whit. Taylor admired her. When she transformed, she became Centuriomon-- a beautiful centaur with elegant white wings, the Spirit of Wind.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/190150326@N08/50312506691/in/dateposted-public/)

The group wasn’t all human. Two Digimon companions had been with them from the very start, guiding them through this strange world and helping them understand the reason they’d been sent here. It was these two, the patient, caring Lopmon and devilish Impmon, who’d told them of the Darkness and all that was expected of them as Digidestined. Now, the two sat deflated in their seats on the Trailmon, exhausted by yet another fight among their wards. Lopmon was usually the epitome of calm, always trying to resolve disputes by suggesting breathing exercises or similarly calming de-escalations. Impmon, on the other hand, lost his patience easily and usually wound up making things worse, butting heads with David and getting into physical altercations with the man despite supposedly being here to guide him. However, Taylor couldn’t say she hated seeing the man kicked around by the tiny purplish devil.

But now, neither Impmon nor Lopmon intervened. Lopmon seemed to be napping, or at least pretended to nap, and Impmon staring out the window, brow furrowed in concentration. Possibly concentrating on trying not to kick David in the shins. 

It was understandable that they were both so exhausted. The group had barely made it out of their last battle, only just managing to tire out the attacking Phantomon and catch a Trailmon to hasten their escape. Now here they were, tired, bruised, hungry, waiting for the Trailmon to deposit them in some new city where they would inevitably be caught in some new battle. Their task seemed never-ending, and Taylor could feel how hopeless they’d all become.

“I’m not starting fights for ‘ _no reason_ ’,” David hissed at Dominique. “I’m just pointing out the flaws in the group. No one’s perfect, but some of us are definitely weighing down the group more than others, and I just think it’s time we consider _doing_ something about the weakest links instead of just letting them drag us down through every fight.” Taylor continued watching the passing trees, trying with great effort to ignore his words and maintain a neutral expression.

“You know, David, maybe the ‘weakest link’ is the person who’s constantly trying to get the group to abandon people they don’t deem powerful enough to be worth their time,” Valentina glared up at him, clutching her battle-damaged arm. She’d been wounded because of him, and her patience was short. “Maybe the weakest link is someone who can’t be bothered to learn how to fight alongside people and is constantly getting in other people’s _way_.”

“Look, I’m sorry, Valentina, but if you’d just been watching where you were _going_ \--” David started, but was cut off by Javier.

“Man, listen,” Javier stood, looking down at the man. He was a good five inches taller than David, and was always able to intimidate him when David needed to be put in his place. “It was your fault, okay? Just own up to it. Stop trying to get us all to team up on someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

“Look, David might actually have a point,” Harish spoke, his once-friendly voice delivering the crushing statement. Taylor turned away slightly, trying not to hear as he continued. “It might be best for her if we leave her with Impmon or somebody in a little town, someplace safe. You have to admit it’s much harder to fight when you’re constantly babysitting somebody. Always on the defensive, you know?”

“Exactly!” David exclaimed, conviction returning to his voice. “If _all_ of us had our spirits, _maybe_ we could focus on fighting as a team. But while we’re protecting a certain someone, we can’t go all-in on the bad guy.” David glanced in her direction.

She’d had enough. She turned away from the group, heading towards the end of the car.

“Taylor, wait,” Darius stood, moving towards her as she slid open the door to the next compartment.

“I’ll be okay. I just wanna be alone for a little while,” she entered the next car, turning briefly and looking Darius in the eye. “I’m… I’m sorry for weighing down the group.”

She shut the door. He didn’t follow, instead turning back to David and Javier, his posture tense. She could no longer hear the heated discussion, but could still see everyone fussing at each other, and still knew it was about her. She needed more distance. She wanted to _really_ feel alone.

Her footsteps echoed as she traversed the empty car, sliding open the passage to the next compartment. The caboose, as she discovered. It seemed this was as far as she could go. She closed the door behind her, the click of the latch sealing her away from the others. Blessed silence filled the car, besides the ever-present thrumming of the Trailmon. She realized now how tense she’d been, and sighed, relaxing her shoulders and slumping onto one of the Trailmon’s hard plastic seats. It was curiously warm, though she supposed she shouldn’t be too surprised by that, since she was inside of a living being.

Taylor played with a hole in her jeans as she continued to calm herself down. She always felt so tense around the others, so nervous. Even before all this, she’d been terrified she’d disappoint them somehow and they’d all discover she was someone to be hated. Usually, she could convince herself these thoughts were baseless, just a symptom of her social anxiety. But it had all come true. She _was_ a disappointment. It wasn’t an unusual feeling for her, but she’d hoped maybe this time it would be different.

She hadn’t shared much about her life on Earth with anyone but Darius. Even then, she’d kept most details close to her chest. In her younger years, she’d had a passion for drawing, and tried to pursue a degree in the arts. She could barely remember what it felt like those first few months, when she was still bright-eyed and full of dreams for her future. During her second year, after several grueling semesters of bleary-eyed all-nighters, surrounded by a suffocating miasma of hostility and inadequacy, it all came to a head. She suffered a mental breakdown a week before exams. She just curled up in bed in her dorm room, paralyzed with fear, while exams came and went.

Naturally, she was kicked out. She moved back in with her mom and didn’t so much as pick up a pencil for a year.

That year was spent hiding in her room, gradually accumulating more trash she couldn’t be bothered to throw away. She played video games. She watched several mediocre sitcoms all the way through. She felt constant, crushing guilt over all the trouble she was causing her long-suffering mother.

It was a long while before she could bring herself to try drawing again. But she did, some of that long-forgotten passion returning as she drew in a sketchbook just for herself. And eventually, she even felt comfortable sharing some of her drawings online. She started posting art to social media, generating a not-insignificant amount of attention for it. But she was inconsistent. Any time she tried to stick with something or give herself a hard deadline, she panicked and froze, unable to create. Whatever this anxiety was, it cost her several opportunities to build a business out of what she did. She was starting to think she was just hard-wired to self-sabotage.

When the other Digidestined asked about her life, all she said was that she was an artist. They took it at face value and rarely asked follow-up questions. None of that was important here, anyway. Here, they were new people, with new skills and a singular goal. But she was still as pathetic as she’d been on Earth. Approaching thirty with nothing to show for it, always unable to keep up with her peers.

She lay down on the warm bench, which seemed to cradle her gently as the Trailmon rocked back and forth, and closed her eyes.

\---

“Look! She’s finally apart from the others. Now’s our chance, Gotsumon!” Pumpkinmon turned to his rocky compatriot, renewed glee in his jack-o-lantern grin. They were both perched atop the train car, watching her settle on the plastic seat within.

“This is _perfect_ ,” Pumpkinmon continued. “We can separate the cars. Then she’ll be _all ours_.”

“Good idea!” Gotsumon exclaimed. “Wait… can you separate Trailmon cars?”

“Only one way to find out…” Pumpkinmon leapt down to investigate the coupling between the cars, disappearing from Gotsumon’s view.

After some time, there was a small thunk, and the empty car in front of them began slowly pulling ahead. Gotsumon leaned over the edge and beamed down at Pumpkinmon, who grinned up at him. The caboose was on its own, and already slowing down considerably.

Gotsumon carefully climbed down the side of the trail car, not making any sudden movements so as not to alert the human within. He crouched next to Pumpkinmon, both Digimon giggling as the Trailmon in front of them disappeared at a curve in the tracks, leaving their car far behind. Their trick had been successful, and all too easy.

“Once it stops, we should go hide until she comes out,” Pumpkinmon chortled. “She won’t suspect a thing!”

“You’re so smart, Pumpkinmon,” Gotsumon gaped at Pumpkinmon in admiration. “The Master will be so pleased with you.”

“Yes, I think he’ll reward us both handsomely if we can get her all the way to the castle on our own…”

\---

It took Taylor some time to realize something was wrong. At first, she thought she’d been imagining the slowing of the Trailmon. Then she assumed they were approaching their destination. When the Trailmon finally ceased its movements altogether, she sat up, expecting to see a small town or at least a recognizable stop. But all she could see was wilderness.

Her predicament proved to be even stranger when she glanced to her left, where the rest of a Trailmon should have been, only to see empty tracks leading off into yet more wilderness. No Trailmon in sight. She was alone.

Her heart rate had slowed considerably as she lay half-sleeping on the hard plastic seat of the Trailmon, but it quickened to a rabbit pace as the situation dawned on her. She not only had no Digital Spirit, but she was inconveniencing the group by getting stranded on her own in the middle of nowhere, utterly defenseless. David was going to be _furious_. And the rest of the group wouldn’t let on, but she was certain they’d be at least disappointed, if not all-out annoyed having to come rescue her.

She slid open the compartment door, a fresh breath of air sweeping past her as she stared out at the tracks. She couldn’t so much as hear a Trailmon in the distance, the rails below lying silent and still. They must have been separated miles back. Her friends were likely far, far ahead of her by now.

Taylor sighed and considered her options. She could stay in the car, waiting for her compatriots to backtrack and find her. Or she could take the initiative and start the long journey down the tracks to the next town. She thought of David, thought of how he would react to finding her uselessly waiting in the compartment versus wandering along the tracks. Either choice wouldn’t be good enough for him, most likely drawing equal ire. 

Instead, she tried to imagine how Valentina would deal with the situation. Even without a Digital Spirit, Valentina wouldn’t have simply waited to be rescued.

She hopped down from the car, a small cloud of dust rising in her wake, and started walking down the tracks.

As the compartment disappeared into the wilderness behind her, she was able to put her worries about the other Digidestined to the back of her mind. There was no point in fretting over what they would think and how they would react. There was only the track under her feet and the warm breeze carrying her onward, there was only the here and now. 

The time alone wasn’t unwelcome. It had been at least a month and a half since she’d arrived in the Digital World, and since the instant they woke up in a clearing together, all their time had been spent either fighting enemies or each other, any peaceful moments ruined by the constant fear of where they were going to sleep or what they were going to eat or who they could trust. Being a Digidestined was exhausting. And beyond that, she was always _around_ people. Even when they got separated, it was never like this. She was always with one of the other humans, and usually feeling guilty they’d gotten stuck taking care of her.

Even back on Earth, her mom had always been _around_. Always barely masking her disappointment and concern for her nearly-30-year-old daughter. Thus the feelings of guilt and shame she felt around the other Digidestined were all too familiar. She figured it must be something inherent within her, a fragility or submissive energy baked into her very DNA. It was almost like people could smell it, and knew not to put any faith in her lest she disappoint them. Or maybe it was just an utter lack of confidence, a wearing-down of her spirit that had started a long time ago and been compounded into a great lead weight that kept her from rising to meet expectations. And so she wallowed, unable to do anything for herself, burdening others with her inadequacy.

Taylor took a deep breath. She didn’t have to think about these things right now. She was truly in the moment, nothing else to be done but keep walking forward along the tracks. 

Her surroundings were peaceful and calm, unearthly in a way that was difficult to put one’s finger on. It was beautiful. And not for the first time, she thought to herself how lucky she really was to be here. It was dangerous, and she didn’t feel like she deserved it, and her relationships with the others were fraught. But this world was beautiful. She wanted to be able to help this place, to help free it from the Darkness that threatened to consume it. If only she were able.

A rustle came from the brush to her right. She turned quickly, her chest thumping. She was suddenly all too aware of how defenseless she was. If any questionable Digimon found her here, without her friends to protect her...

“Excuse me, miss,” a small, friendly voice piped up from the brush. A stony head appeared, bearing a jagged but geometric smile. “What are you doing here?”

“Yeah,” another voice from the brush, raspier than the first. A second head appeared, this one a grinning jack-o-lantern, a knife still sticking out of the gourd as if fresh from the carving. “You’re pretty far from any town. What are you doing out in the middle of nowhere?”

“I’m just trying to catch up to my friends,” she explained. “What are _you_ doing here?” She continued down the tracks, watching the two figures emerge from the wilderness. They were small, and terribly cute. However, she’d quickly learned that things weren’t necessarily as they seemed here. Digimon that looked evil could be the kindest, while those who seemed innocent and sweet could turn out to be the most vile. These didn’t exactly look either good or evil, though the pumpkin was bordering on macabre. But they seemed friendly enough.

“We were hoping to catch a Trailmon to Black Pine Village. Looks like we just missed one…” the pumpkin spoke up. “I’m Pumpkinmon, by the way!” He grinned up at her.

“And I’m Gotsumon,” the little rock-faced digimon appeared beside her. He had two outcroppings on his head that imitated ears. Though it wasn’t beyond imagining that they functioned as ears, despite being made of rock. Digimon biology was undoubtedly complicated. “What’s your name?” Pumpkinmon skipped into view next to Gotsumon, both following along as she trudged down the tracks. 

“I’m Taylor. Is Black Pine Village the next stop on this track?” She answered.

“Sure is, Taylor. Are you headed there, too?” Gotsumon asked.

“I suppose I am. That’s where my friends were headed, at least.”

“But it’s at least three days away by walking! And that’s if you don’t get tired. That’s why we were hoping for a Trailmon. There’s no point in going along the tracks-- if you wanna get there fast, there’s a much quicker way through the woods,” Pumpkinmon explained.

“We go that way all the time. It’s only a couple days if you use the trails,” Gotsumon motioned into the woods. Taylor paused, considering. The wilderness beyond the two figures was dark and uninviting.

“If my friends come back for me, they’ll try looking along the train tracks. It’s best not to complicate things. I’d better stick to this path, even if it takes a few extra days.” Taylor turned, continuing down the metal track.

“But… what if your friends _don’t_ come looking?” Pumpkinmon asked as he trotted beside her, seemingly genuine concern in his voice. “I’d feel bad knowing we left you to walk alone for _four days_ through wild country where all kinds of Digimon roam…”

“And what are you going to eat? It doesn’t look like you have food,” Gotsumon looked her over. It was true, she didn’t have food.

“They’ll… they’ll come looking. I know they will,” she assured herself. “They’re probably already on their way back to get me.” She paused, listening, feeling the ground beneath her for any tremors of an approaching train. Gotsumon and Pumpkinmon stopped, too, listening with her.

Silence. Only the rustling of the breeze through the trees as the three stood, staring into the distance.

It wasn’t possible, was it? That they’d collectively decide it wasn’t worth it to come back and get her? Dominique would never let that happen. _Darius_ would never let that happen. But… she couldn’t be sure what they said about her when she wasn’t around. Maybe they were _all_ glad to be rid of her.

She shook her head, trying to cast these thoughts from her mind. This was ridiculous. She was one of the _Digidestined_ . They needed her, that’s what Impmon and Lopmon had said. Though... how sure were they that there needed to be _eight_ Digidestined? Thinking about it, all the usual elemental spirits were covered. There didn’t seem to be any element left for her to claim. Perhaps the two Digimon were wrong, and the powers that be had sent along an extra human, just in case they lost one.

She turned to the Digimon, both still listening for a Trailmon that wasn’t coming.

“Okay.” She’d reached a decision. “It would be unsafe for me to keep going along the tracks by myself. And… if worse comes to worst, I’m sure we’ll wind up finding each other in Black Pine Village. Do you wanna show me your shortcut?” The two Digimon jumped in the air, seemingly excited at the prospect of adding an additional member to their party.

“Yay!” Gotsumon exclaimed, his eyes wide, staring up at her. “Thanks for coming with us, Taylor. This will be way more fun with a _human_ to talk to.” Gotsumon reached up, taking her hand in his stony little fist. It was warm and smooth, like a river rock that’d been left in the sun. He led her to the edge of the forest, and with Pumpkinmon bringing up the rear, they plunged into the greenery.

\---

“ _Boy_ , I’m beat already,” Pumpkinmon exclaimed. It had been something like five hours, and the sun had begun to set beyond the treetops. The trail was getting harder to see, and while Taylor couldn’t speak for her new companions, her stomach was rumbling terribly. She was glad Pumpkinmon had given in first before she’d have to be the one to stop their march. “How about we stop for the night?” Pumpkinmon continued.

“Sounds good to me,” Gotsumon agreed. “I think I hear a stream up ahead... I’ll see if I can catch us some fish.” Gotsumon scampered ahead, Pumpkinmon and Taylor following with exhausted footfalls. Taylor was always amazed that Digimon needed to do things like eat and sleep. It seemed like they shouldn’t function as Earthly beings do, and yet here was Pumpkinmon, just as tired as she was after a long hike.

She heard Gotsumon splashing his way into the stream, attempting to catch fish with his bare hands. She figured she shouldn’t bet on his success, and steeled herself for another long night of hunger pangs on the cold forest floor, just as so many nights with the Digidestined ended.

Pumpkinmon knelt beside her, gathering the surrounding leaf litter into a little pile. He grabbed sticks in the immediate area, stacking them atop the leaves purposefully. Taylor saw what he was trying to do and decided to make herself useful, wandering the clearing and gathering what large branches she could find in the dying light. She turned just as Pumpkinmon spat a small flame from his gaping grin, the pile instantly set alight. The forest around her was illuminated by the small fire, and she realized just how dark it had gotten. She stacked her branches next to Pumpkinmon.

“Thanks, human,” he mumbled as he broke one of the branches, adding it to his growing pile. He was a bit more brusque than before. But she figured it was due to the exhaustion of the day’s hike. 

As the fire grew, Taylor couldn’t help but imagine how the night would have gone had she stayed on the tracks. She imagined herself trying to start a fire with what little knowledge she could remember from Javier. Imagined herself failing time and again, until she eventually decided to either keep walking all night or lie in the brush, shivering, until dawn. Or perhaps the servants of the Darkness would have found her, and that would be that.

But she didn’t have to worry about any of that. She was not shivering alone by the side of the tracks. Instead, there was light and heat and the company of kind Digimon.

Splashing came once again from the direction of the stream. Gotsumon emerged, and to her surprise, he held two huge fish, wriggling desperately in his arms. Now they had light, heat, _and_ food, all thanks to these friendly Digimon who decided to help her for no other reason than because she was there.

“Gotsumon, that’s amazing! Did you catch those bare-handed?” She exclaimed. Gotsumon seemed surprised.

“Oh, um, yes! Did I… do good?” He was so sheepish, as if he’d never been congratulated before. Taylor couldn’t help but recognize the feeling, and her heart swelled at his confusion.

“Yes, Gotsumon, you did very good,” she chuckled at him. He flopped the fish down near the fire, brushing the water off his stone body. “Thank you for finding dinner so fast.”

“I’m just happy to help,” Gotsumon grinned up at her, his stony cheeks eclipsing his eyes as he smiled.

\---

The night passed quickly, and soon Taylor was curled up as comfortably as possible, the exhaustion sweeping her away into slumber. The fish had a similarly soporific effect on Gotsumon, and Taylor had allowed him to cuddle up to her for warmth, his tiny stone body nestled in the crook of her arm. Only Pumpkinmon was left, gently stoking the fire as he waited for the telltale leathery wings of the Master’s messenger. Finally, the flapping came, and Pumpkinmon quietly stood, moving away from the firelight and into the darkened woods.

“Good work, Pumpkinmon,” Demidevimon whispered down from a branch, his form silhouetted against the night sky, only his wide eyes illuminated. “The Master will be very happy if you’re able to get her the rest of the way without rousing her suspicions.”

“She’s totally clueless,” Pumpkinmon could barely suppress a giggle. “She thinks we’re headed to Black Pine Village. We should be at the castle tomorrow night, if Gotsumon manages to keep his trap shut.”

“If he doesn’t,” Demidevimon hissed. “It’ll come back to bite _both_ of you, you know. The Master wants her to feel welcome, after all. It’d be no good to deliver her tied up like a prisoner when she’s supposed to be a _guest_.”

“She’s only a human,” Pumpkinmon waved his hand, dismissing Demidevimon’s concerns. “Easily deceived by kindness.”

“Let’s hope so,” he croaked ominously, then spread his wings, flapping away into the night to inform their Master of Taylor’s imminent arrival.

\---

Taylor awoke, more refreshed than she’d felt in days. Though the first two weeks of sleeping on forest floors had been difficult, she’d almost gotten used to waking up with creaking bones and sore muscles. There’d been a few nights when the group had been able to rest in comfortable inns or the homes of kind Digimon, but those were few and far between. Still, despite her aches, she awoke with renewed vigor for the day ahead, excited to wander with her new companions and show the Digidestined that she could solve her own problems.

“Gooood morning, Taylor!” Gotsumon was already awake, hard at work on breakfast. He’d found a flat rock and placed it over the fire as a makeshift skillet, frying eggs on its surface. “I found _eggs_.” As they bubbled, the transparent whites becoming opaque, he added some of the uneaten fish from the previous evening’s haul. He looked up at her, shrugging. “I don’t know how that’ll taste, but it’ll definitely be food.”

“Thank you, Gotsumon. You didn’t have to do all this.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes, yawning.

“I know, but we’ve got a long day ahead of us.” Gotsumon used a branch to scoop some egg onto a wide leaf.

“He’s right. Looks like we didn’t get as far as we thought yesterday,” Pumpkinmon sat up, his voice rasping with grogginess. “We’ll probably have to stop somewhere overnight.”

Gotsumon proffered a leaf full of egg and fish to Taylor, his chest puffed with pride. Then offered another to Pumpkinmon, who accepted and ate it in one ravenous bite-- leaf and all. Pumpkinmon sighed, satisfied, some of the vigor returning to his features.

“Luckily, I know a place we can stop for the night. It has beds and everything. Even _food_. And no charge, because the guy is a buddy of mine,” Pumpkinmon explained, excitement in his voice.

Taylor was a little caught off-guard by this. Though there’d been kindly Digimon who offered their homes to the Digidestined, there’d been many more who cowered in fear at their approach, knowing danger followed the humans wherever they went. She was already putting these two at risk by traveling with them, she’d hate to cause more trouble by staying with this supposed friend. And besides, it meant she would be putting yet more time between her and the Digidestined, time in which they could leave Black Pine Village. She almost preferred the thought of walking through the night to make sure she arrived before the others had a chance to mobilize.

Gotsumon remained silent, eating his eggs slowly, thoughtfully. His mood had clearly shifted since Pumpkinmon had woken up, though Taylor couldn’t place his stony expression. She remembered the way Pumpkinmon had spoken to her the night before, a strange gruff edge to his voice, and wondered if their dynamic was as friendly as it seemed.

She chose to follow Gotsumon’s example, eating her fishy eggs in silence, ignoring Pumpkinmon’s suggestion for now. They’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

\---

Taylor now saw why the Trailmon tracks didn’t cut along this path. It was all hills and steep, rocky inclines. She’d always been slim, but as it turned out, being slim was not equivalent to being fit, as she’d quickly realized in her first days in the Digital World. And it hadn’t gotten any easier in the weeks spent on the run, getting very little food or sleep. She huffed and wheezed her way up the hill, legs screaming ceaselessly.

“Um,” she finally spoke up. “Is anyone else getting tired?”

“I can always rest,” Pumpkinmon piped up.

“Heh, I never get tired,” Gotsumon bragged. “But I _am_ hungry. I can track down some lunch, if that’d be helpful?”

“Oh yeah, that’d be great! I’m _starving_ ,” Pumpkinmon exclaimed.

“Yeah, I’m pretty hungry, too. But first,” she looked around, spotting a clearing that overlooked the forest below, the gray shale of the hill peeking out from under a thick carpet of moss. “I gotta collapse for a little while.” She plopped down on the moss, her legs almost tingling as they relaxed for the first time since morning. Gotsumon scrambled down to the forest’s edge, shale sliding under his feet on the rocky hillside.

As her breathing slowed and her body settled in, she took in her surroundings, eyes sweeping over the forest they’d been marching through all day. It seemed they’d made it past the treeline. The plants had transitioned from tall flowering trees with voluminous leaves to short, scruffy conifers, only just able to protect the little patch of moss from the sun. The forest below them stretched out for miles in each direction. Cloud shadows passed over the canopy, great blankets of darkness sweeping across the green.

Pumpkinmon let out a loud, satisfied sigh, breaking the silence. He lay back in the moss, his pose relaxed.

“So why are you two headed to Black Pine Village?” She asked.

“Oh, you know…” he responded slowly. “We have stuff to do there.”

“Do you... know anyone who lives there?” She continued, trying to fill out the conversation.

“Yeah, a couple Digimon.” He seemed oddly stiff. She hadn’t intended for this to be an interrogation. Taylor took the hint, letting the silence return.

They sat there on the damp moss for some time, the breeze rustling the leaves below. Just as she was beginning to worry about Gotsumon, he appeared, his arms bursting with berry-laden branches.

“Lunch!” He exclaimed, laying them out in front of his friends.

“Gotsumon, you’re incredible,” Taylor admired the bounty, delighted. She beamed up at him. He glanced away, clearly blushing, as much as a tiny rock monster could blush.

“I’m glad I could help,” he said, settling down on the moss opposite her.

Taylor had been surprised by how much the Digital World mirrored their own. The food in particular was very much the same, though occasionally prepared differently or taking on an unusual shape. These berries were the latter, an unearthly translucent blue in color, with hollow middles that made her think of tiny donuts. She ate the first berry thoughtfully, taking in its flavor. It had surprisingly firm flesh, like a chewy strawberry, with a taste like sour candy.

The three feasted in silence, each of their empty stomachs demanding all attention.

Eventually, when she’d cleared a whole branch of berries, Taylor was able to break out of her fugue state. She returned to her view of the wilderness, letting the ripple of the wind sweeping over the treetops settle her spirits. She could see Gotsumon in her periphery, similarly gazing at the forest as he chewed, deep in thought.

As she took in the peaceful moment, she was struck with a sudden unignorable urge to draw. Every now and then when she found herself in a moment worth holding on to, one she wanted to remember thoroughly, she was struck with this sort of intense need. But she didn’t exactly have a sketchbook with her this time. However, as she glanced around, she did see plenty of flat, unmarred slabs of shale.

Taylor reached for the nearest slab, grabbing a smaller stone in her other hand. She settled back into the moss, positioning herself to have the best view of Gotsumon as he watched the trees.

She dragged the small stone across the surface of the shale, and as she’d hoped, it left a thin white line in its wake. She smiled, and began her work.

It had been a long time since she’d done figure drawing. Though she was unused to such a paleolithic medium, and Gotsumon was an unusual model to say the least, the act of drawing a living thing was enough to jar those muscle memories from their slumber, and the lines came smoothly. In only a few minutes she’d sketched out his angular shape on the shale.

The sound of stone scratching across stone continued for some time. Eventually, Gotsumon noticed the sound, and turned, breaking the pose. Taylor was across from him, glancing up from the shale and staring intensely at him every few seconds. One of her arms moved erratically across the rock’s surface.

“What are you doing?” He asked, confused.

“Oh… just drawing. Keeping my hands busy,” she explained, instinctively tilting the shale towards her body and out of view.

“ _Drawing_? That’s so cool!” he exclaimed, amazed. “Can I see?” He shuffled closer to her. Her usual reaction would be to hide what she’d done, worried it would disappoint, especially since it was so rough. The stone had been much harder to control than a pencil or a paintbrush, so it wasn’t her best work.

But she forced herself to take a step back from that sort of thinking. Gotsumon was not one of her ruthless classmates or professors. He was a Digimon, and a friendly one at that, almost childlike. This would probably make him happy, as it had made her happy.

Taylor turned the shale around, displaying the image of Gotsumon, loose white lines defining his features against the dark rock.

He leaned forward, a look of awe on his face. “But… that’s me. You drew… me?” He touched the lines, tracing them with his stubby fingers. “ _Why_?”

“You were… cute, staring out at the forest like that…” she explained, nervous that the image was upsetting him. “And I wanted to remember this moment. It’s so peaceful here, and you’ve both been so kind, escorting me through the woods like this. I wanted to draw something to remember you by.” Gotsumon gently took the shale from her, gazing down at it. The slab was huge next to his slight form, his arms held wide as he gripped the rock. Once he’d taken in the details for several long seconds, he looked back up at her, eyes wide.

“You think I’m _cute_?” She couldn’t tell if he was angry with her observation.

“Um… yes? Sorry if that’s bad, I just think your little ears are adorable, that’s all--” he beamed, staring back down at the slab. She breathed an internal sigh of relief. She had not insulted her new friend.

“I want to remember this trip, too,” he said gently. “Can you write something on it?” He handed it back, offering it gently like it was the most valuable thing he’d ever touched, afraid to ruin it.

“Of course,” she smiled, taking the shale and roughly signing her name, adding ‘ _for Gotsumon, with love_ ’ above the signature.

As he took it back from her, handling it as carefully as if it was made of eggshell, a small part of her realized how often she undervalued her skill. She’d made something that was meaningful to Gotsumon. It didn’t matter that it had been made roughly, with tools she found on the ground. What mattered was that she’d made it while thinking of him.

He suddenly seemed to snap out of his reverie, glancing back at Pumpkinmon nervously, though the other Digimon had made no sound. She assumed Pumpkinmon had fallen asleep after eating his fill, as he’d lain back in the moss and been quiet for some time. But she now saw the light in his eyes, staring intently at Gotsumon with a look she couldn’t quite describe, his jack-o-lantern grin hiding his true expression. Whatever he was trying to communicate with that look made Gotsumon nervous.

Pumpkinmon’s eyes swiveled to her, his gaze leaving a cold feeling in her chest. But he grinned, his warm personality visibly returning. He hopped to his feet and stretched comically.

“That’s enough resting, I think!” He exclaimed. “We’d better hit the road if we wanna make it to my friend’s place before nightfall. He’ll have a feast waiting for us there, nice warm beds, even _wine_. So come on!” He slapped Gotsumon on the back, Gotsumon clutching the shale to his chest protectively. He stood, smiling at Pumpkinmon.

“Yeah, let’s go,” he was trying to sound excited, but wasn’t doing the best job, his voice quiet and dull. He glanced back at Taylor, anxiety in his eyes.

Taylor stood, brushing dirt from her jeans. The cold feeling in her chest was spreading, an emptiness creeping out from its center and chilling her bones. She suddenly thought of running away, leaving these two and striking out on her own, back to the safety and certainty of the tracks.

But that was ridiculous. Pumpkinmon was just tired, that’s why he was acting weird. And she was probably reading into Gotsumon’s behavior, projecting her own social anxiety onto the little Digimon. Above all, if she ran off now, she’d do nothing but get herself lost in the middle of nowhere, either dying of exposure or being discovered by agents of the Darkness and being killed in any number of horrendous ways.

She exhaled, the cold dissipating for now, and trudged along behind the two Digimon.

\---

It was getting dark. The sun was still visible, a sliver of gold on the far horizon. But the path ahead was quickly darkening, the sky turning a bruised purple as dusk descended.

Taylor was flagging. Pumpkinmon, in contrast, was excitedly bounding ahead, his energy heightened by their supposed proximity to his “friend’s” place. Taylor couldn’t see anything resembling a house, the ridge they walked along merely leading to a shadowy black cliff-face. Great jagged rock rose from the ground to meet its edge, like massive black teeth in the gaping maw of a waiting predator. 

The trees had all disappeared, even the scraggly conifers not daring to lay roots in the unwelcoming black rocks of the mountaintop. Taylor could see for miles around. There was no house. And what’s worse, she couldn’t see anything resembling a village nestled in the forests below. She calmed herself by rationalizing that it was dark, that the village might be too small to see from this vantage, that it might just be hidden somewhere on the other side of the cliff. But that cold feeling had returned to her chest, her suspicions heightening by the second.

Now that she thought about it, there could be something about the towering stalagmites in the darkened cliff-face that suggested man-made geometries. Or Digimon-made geometries, she supposed. As if shapes had been carved from the rock, great spires traversing the length of the cliff. But if that’s where Pumpkinmon’s friend lived, it was huge. It would be more like a castle than a house.

Gotsumon, still clutching the now-precious slab to his chest, matched Taylor’s tired pace, both of them unable to keep up with the manic Pumpkinmon. It was as if the two had switched roles, the usual tireless Gotsumon now slowed to a snail’s pace, the usual low-stamina Pumpkinmon now racing ahead.

“It’s just in the shadow of the cliff there,” Pumpkinmon exclaimed, skipping ahead gleefully.

Taylor suddenly felt a small stony hand, colder than it had been before, curl itself around hers. Gotsumon stopped in his tracks, and Taylor stopped with him as he tugged gently on her hand.

“You have to get out of here,” Gotsumon whispered, his grip tightening. “There’s still time.” His eyes left her for a moment, glancing back towards Pumpkinmon. He threw his arm out, and Taylor watched in awe as a huge pillar of stone erupted from beneath Pumpkinmon, throwing him far up into the air.

“Did you do that?!” She gasped.

“ _Follow me_ .” He broke into a wild sprint down the hill, toward the dark trees far below. Taylor followed quick on his heels, her heart leaping into her throat. She knew it. She _knew_ there was something off about this. She couldn’t believe she’d let herself get carried so far off course

“ _Where do you think you’re going?!_ ” Pumpkinmon shouted after them. Taylor glanced back. He was some distance away, stumbling as he tried to catch up, clearly disoriented by Gotsumon’s attack. 

Taylor realized too late that glancing back was a mistake. The rocky face of the mountainside slid beneath her, and she lost her footing, collapsing to the ground. Gotsumon went down with her, but quickly righted himself, tugging at her arm while still clutching his beloved slab of shale to his chest.

“Hurry, before he--” A great gust of heat flew past Taylor’s face, a ball of fire interrupting Gotsumon and tearing his hand from hers, knocking his small body several yards away.

The slab of rock he’d held so dearly now lay in broken pieces, shattered by the impact.

Gotsumon shuffled, propping himself up on one elbow as small wisps of smoke rose from his charred body. Taylor scrambled to her feet, still unsteady on the slope as she hurried to Gotsumon.

“We shouldn’t do this, Pumpkinmon!” Gotsumon shouted back. “I don’t think it’s the right thing to do.”

“You’re _half_ right,” Pumpkinmon scoffed, carefully making his way down the hill. “You definitely don’t _think_. If the Master finds out you tried to run off with his guest, he’s gonna be very unhappy with you. So come back. He doesn’t need to know you tried this, we can pretend it never happened.”

“Oh, so your ‘friend’ is _Master_ now?” Taylor’s voice was authoritative as she turned to face the pumpkin-headed Digimon, surprising even her. “I’d have to be nuts to follow you, Pumpkinmon. You’ve done nothing but lie. Gotsumon and I are _leaving_.” 

Taylor broke into a run, the stones sliding beneath her dangerously. Gotsumon was glancing around at the broken pieces of shale as he got to his feet, visibly distressed. She lifted him by his arms, slower than expected as he was much heavier than she’d assumed. But adrenaline carried her forward, Gotsumon held safely in her arms as she bolted toward the treeline.

She didn’t make it. Something heavy and soft struck her back, and she fell forward, the wind knocked from her lungs. Gotsumon tumbled a few feet away, but quickly dug in his heels and turned back to Taylor. Pumpkinmon had knocked her over, pinning her to the stony mountainside as she gasped for breath.

“Running away isn’t gonna do you any good,” Pumpkinmon chittered in her ear, pressing his full weight into her back. “Especially not with _Gotsumon_. He’s basically useless. You’re better off in the castle, trust me.”

Once Taylor had caught her breath, she realized just how light Pumpkinmon was. He’d hit her hard, but he didn’t weigh enough to keep her there. She stood.

“Hey, what the--? Stay _down_!” He clung to her back as she rose, her feet sliding slightly as she got her balance. He thumped his fist on her back, but his blows were easy enough to ignore as she jogged forward, continuing to the forest’s edge. Gotsumon rushed ahead, glancing back at the two.

At first, his expression was relieved, glad that Taylor had gotten back to her feet. But his face changed, eyes widening, focused on something behind her.

“Taylor, duck!” He cried.

“What…?” was all she was able to ask before her ears were filled with the sound of leathery wings. Pumpkinmon leapt from her back, and she stumbled slightly as her weight shifted. But before she could fully right herself, something grabbed her forcefully by the shoulders. Two sets of talons dug into her flesh.

“I knew you two would mess this up somehow!” A voice called from the creature that held her. It dug its talons in harder, flapping its wings, and she found herself being dragged backwards up the hill.

“It wasn’t _me_ , Demidevimon. I was doing a great job,” Pumpkinmon whined. “It’s that rockheaded Gotsumon who should be punished. We were almost at the castle! It was way too late to try a stunt like that, you waste of pixels.” Pumpkinmon approached Gotsumon, who stood by helplessly as Taylor was dragged away. Pumpkinmon thumped him on the head.

“I’m sorry, Taylor!” Gotsumon called after her.

“You should have been able to keep him in line, Pumpkinmon,” Demidevimon growled from next to Taylor’s ear. Her feet were desperately trying to find purchase as she was dragged, but the mountainside slid and crumbled beneath her. She reached up to the taloned feet, scratching at them, trying to get him to loosen his grip. “Ow, _quit_ that!” He dug his claws in further, blood welling up from the punctures and flowing down her chest. “I can make this hurt a _lot_ worse, you know. I’m being _nice_.”

“Get off me! Let me _go_ ,” she screamed, turning her face as best she could to get an idea of what was dragging her backwards. She caught a glimpse of blue leather, an enormous catlike eye, a fanged grimace.

“Escort that traitor to the castle, Pumpkinmon. And _you_ ,” he squeezed painfully to indicate he was speaking to her. “Calm _down_. We don’t want to hurt you.” They’d reached the summit, her feet finally finding purchase on the somewhat solid rock. Demidevimon stopped flapping and settled in on her shoulders. 

She stood as she caught her breath, then immediately tried to fling the creature from her back. All she accomplished was deeper wounds where its talons gripped her. 

“What did I just say! Calm down!” Demidevimon called to her as she flailed.

“Why should I?” She snarled as she dug her fingers between the creature’s claws and her skin, trying her best to pry him from her flesh.

“Because you’re our guest,” Demidevimon explained, his claws unmoved. “And we’ve been ordered to treat you well. Just come to the castle, our Master will explain everything and I bet you’ll feel really dumb that you didn’t just walk in on your own.” His voice was more exasperated than anything else. Despite her best efforts, Taylor found her resolve slipping.

“I don’t trust you,” she shook her body, trying to disorient the creature. This did nothing but cause furrows to form where before there were simply punctures. She stopped immediately, pain blossoming at her collarbones.

“ _Stop_ that!” Demidevimon admonished her. “The Master won’t be happy if your shoulders are torn to shreds when you walk in. He wanted you to come of your own free will. Doesn’t that make him seem trustworthy to you?” Pumpkinmon and Gotsumon had finally made their way back up the hill, Gotsumon carried in the crook of Pumpkinmon’s arm.

“Don’t believe the--” Pumpkinmon slapped his hand across Gotsumon’s mouth before he could finish his sentence. But enough had slipped out that Taylor was able to ignore Demidevimon’s words.

“I’m not going. I don’t care if I have to stand here all night and day until you get tired of holding me. You can’t make me go anywhere.” Taylor stood strong, crossing her arms. Demidevimon let out an exasperated sigh.

“The Master is going to have some strong words for you, Gotsumon,” he muttered, his voice dripping with annoyance. The sound of flapping wings began again, strong gusts of air whipping her short black hair into her face as she found herself being dragged once again.

“Hey, quit that! Let me _go_!” She was once again in a frenzy, clawing at his talons as she was carried forward.

“At least we don’t have far to go,” Demidevimon sighed to himself, the panicking human flailing her fists as he flew them towards the castle and into the waiting arms of his Master.

\---

They arrived at the castle steps. Taylor had finally given up the fight, choosing to walk rather than be dragged painfully the entire way to the castle. She felt humiliated. Not only had she allowed herself to be taken in by Pumpkinmon’s lies, her cowardice leading her forward when she should have turned back a long time ago, but she hadn’t even been able to defend herself against two child-sized Digimon. Valentina never would have struggled the way she did. Valentina would never have strayed from the tracks, and absolutely never would have found herself gazing up at a frightening castle, carved from the face of a black stone cliff, forced forward by the painful grip of some sort of bat orb.

As Taylor climbed the steps, her spirit deflating more with each forward footfall, the massive door of the castle creaked open, seeming to invite her in. As she reached the precipice, glancing into the darkened entryway, she balked. She knew this was her last chance. If she crossed the threshold, she would be trapped, fully at the mercy of whatever evil Digimon lurked within its walls.

But Demidevimon urged her forward, flapping his wings, Pumpkinmon grabbing one of her legs with his free hand.

“No, please, you don’t have to do this--” her voice was weak, hoarse from screaming at the Digimon. But it was no use. She was carried into the castle.

The door slammed shut behind them, a thunderous sound that echoed through the cavernous foyer with bone-chilling finality. Taylor was unceremoniously dropped. Demidevimon flapped above her, licking his claws where her dried blood had dirtied them. Pumpkinmon threw Gotsumon to the ground with more force than was necessary, the Digimon letting out a small grunt upon colliding with the hard stone floor. During their tense journey to the castle, Pumpkinmon had wrapped his scarf around Gotsumon’s mouth, robbing him of the ability to share any illicit information with Taylor. He could only communicate with his eyes, which looked up at her apologetically. 

She scrambled to her feet as quickly as she could, rushing back towards the door and grabbing the handle, pulling with her full weight. When it refused to budge, she tried digging her fingers into the edge of the doorframe, desperately trying to claw her way out.

“Welcome,” a booming voice echoed through the foyer. A shiver ran up her spine, and she hesitated, her fingers pausing in their desperate bid for freedom. She turned her head just enough to see what creature now stood behind her.

A man, huge by Earth standards, with cartoonishly oversized hands and feet, dressed in a long cape and formal clothing adorned with skulls and bats. He loomed not five feet away, gazing down at her with a knowing grin. Two fangs glinted in the candlelight.

“I am Myotismon,” he spread his arms wide, gesturing to the castle. Each of his arms was at least as tall as her, and his massive hands nearly touched the walls as he gestured. “I hope you find your stay here to be comfortable.”

As she’d observed, Digimon who looked evil were not always evil. But this Digimon looked extremely evil. And with everything else that had led to her arrival in this castle, combined with the hungry look in his eye, she figured her initial judgement would prove to be correct. She turned back to the door, her deepest animal instincts screaming that if she stayed here she would be in terrible danger.

“Don’t be rude,” Demidevimon suddenly appeared next to her, grabbing her wrist, once again digging his claws into her soft flesh. “Greet your host.” He flapped away, dragging her from the door and forcing her to turn and gaze up at Myotismon.

“Thank you, Demidevimon. But please release her, there’s no need to cause any further pain.” He waved the Digimon away, and Demidevimon complied, quickly releasing her wrist. As soon as she was free, she backed up as far as she could, pressing against the door like a cornered rat. Myotismon removed one glove and reached out his giant hand. She pulled back even further, flattening against the door, trying her best to somehow phase through it and back out into the freedom of the woods.

“I see you’ve been hurt,” his voice was gentle as he touched the tender spot on her shoulder where her clothes had been ripped, revealing the bloodied wound beneath. “I apologize on behalf of my associates. We’d hoped force wouldn’t be necessary. But it’s for your own good, I promise. You’re much safer here.” He ran his elegant clawed finger along her wound. She winced. “This won’t happen again. While you’re here, we hope you’ll be comfortable and happy. You’re our _guest,_ after all.” He smiled warmly as these last words snaked from his lips.

“Wh-what do you want?” she asked, attempting to seem authoritative as she glared up at him. But her voice cracked, and she knew her facade was utterly unbelievable.

“We just want to keep you safe,” his expression was soft, almost caring. He offered his hand to her. “Are you hungry?”

She glared at the hand, then back up at him, her brow lowered, her expression deeply distrustful.

“I’m sure you must be famished. I’ve had my chefs prepare a feast in honor of your arrival.” He reached his hand down to hers, gripping her wrist gently, easing her tense hand away from the wood of the door. “Come along, there’s no need to stand there glaring at me all night. You can do plenty of glaring at the dinner table.”

She tried to hold back. But he looked at her with such understanding, like a man trying to tame a wild beast. He was careful in his motions, and she found herself relaxing, allowing him to lead her from the door. It was no use anyway, she told herself. The door wasn’t going to budge. And… she _was_ hungry.

As Myotismon turned from her, he lifted his claw to his mouth, licking at the small droplets of clotted blood from where he’d touched the girl. He shuddered as the coppery taste settled on his tongue.

\---

Taylor found herself being led down an echoing, cavernous hallway, clearly designed to be traversed by huge Digimon. Her former companions seemed so terribly small as they plodded along next to the huge Myotismon in this hallway built for giants. Gotsumon was still gagged, hands tied behind his back for good measure. He avoided her gaze as they walked, shame and hopelessness radiating from him.

Myotismon turned, looking back at her with a gracious smile.

“Perhaps you’d like to change before going to dinner?” He gestured to her torn clothes, her bloodied shoulders, her jeans caked in weeks of dust and grime.

“I… don’t have any other clothes,” she answered. It wasn’t like she’d had time to pack a bag for her journey to the Digital World. She’d simply gone on a walk one day, fallen down a small embankment, and when she’d righted herself, found her surroundings had completely changed. All she had on her were her house keys and cell phone, now transformed into a Digivice that sat uselessly in her pocket.

“Ah, but you have clothes _here_ ,” Myotismon placed his hand on her lower back, his massive palm guiding her towards a hallway lined with flickering candles and arched stone windows. “I had a room prepared for you. Demidevimon can take you to your quarters.” Demidevimon, who’d been flapping in lazy circles over their heads as they walked, came to rest gently on her shoulder. She winced as his claws, now slack, came in contact with her still-fresh wounds.

“I’ll be gentle this time,” he sneered. “If you cooperate.”

“Demidevimon,” Myotismon’s voice hardened slightly as he chided the batlike Digimon. “There’s no need for threats. We’ll treat our guest with only the utmost kindness from here on out.” His voice softened again as he shifted his gaze to Taylor. “My apologies again for the brutish behavior of my associates. I’ll see you at dinner, Taylor.” He reached out to her again with a massive gloved hand, taking her hand and lifting it gently. His eyes never left hers as he bent nearly double to kiss it gently. His lips were cold and dry, and as they gently brushed her skin, an involuntary shiver ran up her arm. He released her hand, his gentle smile looking more like a devilish grin as he turned away and continued down the hallway. Pumpkinmon shoved Gotsumon forward, clearly with more force than was necessary. As they followed their Master, the little Digimon glanced back at her, fear in his eyes.

“Myotismon!” She called after him despite her better judgement. Demidevimon’s grip tightened slightly in warning.

Myotismon turned back, surprised to hear his name on her lips for the first time.

“Please,” she pleaded, her voice unsteady. “Don’t hurt him. He’s my friend.” Myotismon stood in silence for a moment, caught off guard by the request.

“As you wish,” he responded, and with a swish of his cape, disappeared into the darkness of the corridor beyond, the two Digimon close on his heels.

As she watched them go, the weight of Demidevimon reminding her of her limited freedom, her heart ached for the poor little rock Digimon. She was sure her request would do nothing to soften his fate. And she couldn’t help but feel like it was her fault for being so weak, so easily overpowered, so slow.

“What are you waiting for? Your room is this way,” Demidevimon gestured down the hallway with his wing, shifting painfully on her wounds.

“Do you _have_ to sit there? Couldn’t you just fly next to me?” She asked, gritting her teeth as he shifted again.

“I’m tired from carrying you halfway to the castle,” he answered nonchalantly. “So you have to carry me for a while. It’s only fair.” He sneered as he spoke, though the girl could not see his face. “Your room is just down this way on the right.”

\---

Gotsumon continued down the hallway, Pumpkinmon forcing him to keep pace with their Master’s massive strides. After some time, when the sound of Demidevimon’s teasing had faded and all that could be heard was the echo of their footsteps against the stone walls of the corridor, Myotismon stopped, his head bowed, hands clasped behind his back.

He turned quickly, rounding on the tiny Digimon, lifting him from the ground in one giant hand and pinning him against the wall.

“You miserable little _pebble_ ,” he hissed, glaring at Gotsumon as if he were a detestable insect he wanted to crush beneath his boot. “You nearly ruined _everything_ . All you had to do was play along for _one day,_ just enough time to get her to the castle without arousing suspicion. Pumpkinmon here had no trouble.” He gestured to Pumpkinmon, who stood beaming with pride at the mention of his loyalty. “Why, then, was it so hard for you to simply follow orders and deliver her unharmed?” He ripped the cloth away from Gotsumon’s mouth, scratching deep furrows into the stone of the tiny Digimon’s cheek as he did so. 

“ _Speak_. Explain yourself,” he demanded, his voice deep and threatening.

“I just… I didn’t want her to get hurt...” Gotsumon squeaked.

“And yet, look at the pain you’ve caused her,” Myotismon’s grip tightened, choking the air from Gotsumon’s tiny body. He coughed pitifully. “ She came to us wounded, and that’s all _your fault_. You will pay for what you’ve done. Pumpkinmon,” he turned to face the Digimon, releasing Gotsumon and letting him fall to the ground, gasping for breath. “Take him to the dungeon. I’ll deal with him after we’ve seen to our guest.”

Myotismon turned, his cape sweeping over Gotsumon like he was little more than trash dirtying the floor of the corridor, and continued on his way. Pumpkinmon hoisted the dazed Gotsumon. He hurried away into the darkness towards the dungeon, giggling as he thought of what cruelties he could enact upon Gotsumon before rushing to meet his Master for dinner.

\---

Taylor found herself in a stone room with high ceilings. It was decorated with elaborate tapestries populated by elegantly woven Digimon, lit up by the orange glow of candelabras.

Demidevimon flapped into the room ahead of her, settling on what she assumed was her pillow. He glared at her with narrowed eyes.

“There’s clothes in the thing there,” he gestured to the far side of the room, where an elegant wardrobe stood, its surface decorated with carved lion heads. Or, she supposed, Leomon heads. She and the other Digidestined had befriended a Leomon, and he'd been their companion for some time. He was the first Digimon to die for them. The thought of his face, so full of hope as he dissolved into raw data, still felt like a stab in the chest. Particularly now that she was so far from the path he’d envisioned for her.

“The big wooden thing.” Demidevimon gestured again, impatiently.

“Thanks. Got it,” she murmured, opening the wardrobe carefully. There were several outfits inside, and much to her amazement, they all seemed to be in her size, made not only for a human but for a human of her shape. It was... unsettling.

There were two dresses, one jet black and sleek, the other a shining crimson stitched with complicated black lace. Thankfully, there were also much more sensible clothes-- a roughly knit sweater, a pair of comfortable-looking billowy linen trousers with buttons at the ankles, button-up shirts of varying styles from elegant to casual, and to her great surprise, a pair of jeans.

Taylor chose the jeans and one of the more elegant button-ups. She was going to some sort of feast in a castle, after all, so she should at least try to look her best. Just not sleek-black-dress best. Even ignoring the strange energy of her host, it didn’t seem practical if she’d have to do any running, and she wasn’t ready to rule out the possibility of a panicked dash for freedom this evening.

She made her way to what seemed to be a bathroom, its ceilings high, lit only with the dim flicker of candles. There was an elegant round tub in the room, its tap the face of a roaring Leomon. It was one of the largest tubs she’d ever seen in person. Everything in this castle seemed to have been made with massive Digimon in mind. She felt small, dwarfed by her surroundings.

The sink, thankfully, was a modest height. She shrugged off her jacket, then began the process of peeling off her shirt. The blood from her shoulders had dripped down the length of her torso, gluing the fabric to her skin. The shirt had been long-ruined by her time in the Digital World and this was its death-knell.

Her wounds complained as she lifted her arms, reopening slightly and leaking fresh blood. She took a cloth from the edge of the sink, fresh and white, and began the process of cleaning the dirt and blood from her body.

\---

Demidevimon led her back through the dark, maze-like hallways, this time flying ahead impatiently. He knew better than to dirty her new clothes by settling on her shoulders, not when Myotismon was already in a punishing mood. 

Eventually, they reached a dim room lined with giant suits of rune-inscribed armor, a massive table spanning its width, the ceiling so high the walls merely disappeared into darkness above.

Myotismon stood as she entered the room, his movements stiff and gentlemanly. It disgusted her. Especially when she glanced down to the table and saw only Pumpkinmon seated there, Gotsumon nowhere in sight.

“I’d hoped you would wear the red one…” his fangs glinted in the candlelight as he spoke. He had a strange look in his eye. Somewhere between admiration and hunger, she thought. She shuddered, feeling particularly small and defenseless as she approached what was clearly meant to be her spot at the long table, at the right hand of the smirking Digimon.

Demidevimon flapped his way to the seat across from her, settling in between Pumpkinmon and his Master at the head of the table. Myotismon lowered himself into his seat only after Taylor sat in hers. Taylor felt deeply uncomfortable in her chair. It was made of a particularly stiff wood, and too large for her to sit in properly. But beyond that, she was seated across from two Digimon who’d attacked her not an hour ago, and directly next to a Digimon who clearly had some sickening motivation for inviting her to his table. But she knew there was nothing to be done about any of it now. She was here, and she was only human, unable to defend herself in any meaningful way.

Myotismon lifted his cup. She looked to hers, realizing it was full of red liquid.

“Shall we toast?” He asked, his voice smooth and deep, like something that would come from the mouth of a dark well. Pumpkinmon and Demidevimon both reached for their goblets, the latter reaching up with one clawed foot to grasp it, his motions surprisingly dextrous. Taylor carefully followed suit and lifted hers. “To new friendships.” He smiled at her as he spoke, but his eyes still betrayed some inner deviousness.

She lifted the goblet to her mouth, but didn’t drink, letting the liquid slosh against her lip. She knew better than to imbibe anything offered by someone like Myotismon. She lowered her goblet as everyone else did, gently wiping away the droplets that remained with the far-too-elegant napkin that stood next to her empty plate.

“Ah, the finest the Digital World has to offer,” Myotismon commented as he lowered his goblet back to the table. “How does it compare to the wines of Earth, Taylor?” He leaned forward, invading her space, seemingly eager for her answer.

“It’s… very good,” she offered nervously. “I’ve never really enjoyed the red wine I’ve had on Earth. This is much better. Very… floral.” She knew it was a pitiful statement, but it was probably true. She’d never been a red wine fan, possibly because it always bothered her stomach, and possibly because she’d never tried anything that was more than $12 per bottle. Any price higher than that just didn’t seem worth it when all wine tasted so gross anyway, she always told herself.

She smelled the food before she saw it. Her stomach had been growling for hours, desperate for something with more substance than candy-flavored berries. A starving wolf seemed to awaken inside her when the smell of food wafted from one of the entryways. A Bakemon floated into the room, a Digimon she’d had the misfortune to meet on several occasions. She knew this was probably not the same Bakemon, as there seemed to be countless numbers of these sheet ghost Digimon floating through the Digital World, but he was still an unpleasant sight. However, he was carrying several trays of extravagant food, so she couldn’t help but feel some joy at his approach. He approached the table and cleared his ghostly throat.

“Tonight’s menu starts with sampling of our finest pickled vegetables,” the ghost Digimon’s toothy maw flapped as he spoke, but never closed, his teeth too large to allow for it. He placed an elegantly arranged bowl of brightly-colored vegetables in front of them. Taylor stared down at it with longing. “I recommend following with broth, as a palette cleanser.” As he spoke, he poured them each steaming-hot soup from an archaic black kettle. “And for the main course, we’ll be serving slow-braised meat.” He placed a still-bubbling platter in front of them, the meat sliced delicately into servings, practically dripping from the bone. It smelled incredible. 

“Please, enjoy.” The Bakemon bowed as deeply as his shapeless form would allow as he backed out of the room.

“I’m starving! Let’s dig in,” Pumpkinmon howled, immediately descending on his vegetables. Demidevimon followed suit, similarly crude, forgoing utensils and burying his face in the food. Myotismon elegantly raised a single vegetable to his lips, biting into it thoughtfully. Taylor merely stared down at her bowl, nervous to so much as make a move, though she was desperate to eat.

“Not happy with the food?” He asked, looking down at her with what seemed to be concern.

“No, no,” she stammered. “I just…” she trailed off. She what? Didn’t trust him? Didn’t trust the food? Wanted to know what happened to Gotsumon? Wanted to know why they’d gone to so much trouble to get her here, what exactly they wanted from her?

“I assure you, there’s nothing wrong with the food,” he explained. “Yours is the same as all of ours. Even if I had some nefarious scheme in mind, I wouldn’t need to drug you first. I’m fully aware you have very little trust for me, and I understand that, but it simply wouldn’t make any sense to go be so underhanded when I have an entire castle full of servants who could subdue you in an instant if need be.”

“Thanks, that makes me feel much safer,” she muttered, glaring up at him. He laughed, sharp and genuine.

“Fair enough. I suppose that did sound more like a threat than I intended. Still, I know you’re hungry. You don’t have to starve yourself, you did enough of that out there.” He gently motioned to the far end of the room, where a massive window stood, looking out over the purple night sky and the Digital World beyond.

Taylor stared back down at her food. It looked incredible. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had food that was so elegant. She’d subsisted on ramen packets and PB&Js for so long, occasionally eating tex-mex take-out with her mom to mix things up and incorporate vegetables into her diet. Vegetables drowned in cheese, but vegetables nonetheless.

She reached for her fork.

\---

Taylor’s stomach must have shrunk since she’d arrived in the Digital World. The vegetables and broth had already filled her up enough that the thin slice of meat was a challenge. Still, her aching muscles demanded protein, and she soldiered on. The texture was almost buttery, every bite nearly melting in her mouth, the sweet braising sauce delighting her senses.

She straightened up when her plate was clean, her mind seeming to clear with it as her hunger fully subsided. The two creatures across the table were going back for more, their appetites as unquenchable as any Digimon’s. Myotismon sat back as she did, watching her carefully, that strange look returning to his eye, a knowing smirk plastered across his face. She felt her strength rising as the food settled in her gut.

“Why did you bring me here?” She asked. The authoritative tone had finally returned to her voice. Myotismon’s smirk only widened.

“I think I can be of great help to you,” Myotismon answered, his voice calm and kind. The two Digimon slowed their eating, realizing this conversation was most likely important and shouldn’t be interrupted by their boisterous feasting. “The other Digidestined didn’t seem to value you. They didn’t understand your potential. I do.”

His words hung in the air. Taylor didn’t know what to make of them. In the back of her mind, she figured he was just saying what he thought she’d want to hear. That she was capable of greatness, just as the others were. But she knew enough about herself that she wasn’t buying it.

“What would make you think I have any potential?” She asked. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know things about you that you don’t even know about yourself, Taylor,” he leaned forward, his body uncomfortably close to hers. She instinctively pulled back. “You’re going to be more powerful than any of the others. But only with my help.” He smiled, baring his fangs. He may have meant this to be friendly, but it came across as a threat. He glanced down to her goblet.

“You’ve barely tried to wine. Come, drink. Enjoy the evening,” he lifted his own goblet, now half-empty. “We can discuss this tomorrow, once you’ve had a chance to rest.” He lifted hers to her mouth, and she took it from him, heart beating hard in her chest.

Taylor sat there for a moment, staring down into the red liquid, Myotismon hovering over her expectantly. Some part of her felt as if she was being a bad guest by turning it down, while a much larger part of her screamed that she shouldn’t let her guard down in a place like this, and that she absolutely shouldn’t drink mysterious red liquids from a vampire _or_ an evil-looking Digimon with mysterious motives. And Myotismon was both.

But in the end, it was curiosity that won out. How could she turn down not only an expensive wine, but one brewed in the Digital World? And besides, she’d eaten an entire meal that proved to be unpoisoned. She felt fine. Perhaps Myotismon really was just being a good host.

She took a sip.

\---

Gotsumon lay at the bottom of the stairs, wet straw beneath him. He couldn’t bring himself to stand. This was partly due to the beating he’d taken from Pumpkinmon, but mostly due to the weight of his heavy heart. He’d failed spectacularly, in all senses of the word. He’d neither been able to complete the simple task he’d been given by his Master, nor been able to rescue Taylor from her dark fate. And so he lay in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the dungeon stairs, brewing in self-hatred.

He lay there for some time in silence. But eventually, he became aware of a sound-- steady breathing, then the subtle shifting of clothes. Then a sharp gasp.

“Who’s there?” A voice rang out from the darkness. Gotsumon turned his head, barely able to lift it with the weight of sadness that had fallen on him.

“I’m Gotsumon,” he murmured. “Just another miserable wretch thrown down here for being too awful to exist.”

There was silence for a moment, then more shuffling. Then careful footsteps. The silhouette of a Digimon appeared in the gloom.

“What did you do to be left here, Gotsumon?” The form asked delicately, kindly. It settled down next to him in the straw, leaning against the dark stone wall.

“I betrayed my Master. I tried to save somebody… and I couldn’t even do that right. Now she’s gonna suffer and it’s all my fault. Why didn’t I just try harder…?” He turned away from the Digimon in shame, wallowing once again in his emotions.

The Digimon shuffled closer to the small stone form of Gotsumon. He felt a hand on his head, gentle and kind.

“It’s never bad to try and stop suffering,” said the Digimon, conviction in his soft voice. “Even if you didn’t succeed, you did the right thing, though it went against the wishes of your Master. That’s very brave. Be proud of yourself, little one.”

Gotsumon shifted, rolling so he could see the face of his companion in the dark dungeon. He was surprised to find he knew the cloak-clad figure before him.

“You’re… Wizardmon, aren’t you?” He asked, blinking in the gloom.

“The very same,” the figure’s eyes, all that was visible of the blue face behind his cloak, radiated kindness as he gazed down at the rookie. A gloved hand reached up and touched the fresh claw-marks across Gotsumon’s stony face.

“I thought you were _dead_ ,” Gotsumon admitted with surprise.

“No. Myotismon saw fit to keep me just in case he needed more information.” There was anger beneath Wizardmon’s words, though he maintained his steady, thoughtful tone. “You were one of his servants, weren’t you? How did you wind up down here with me?”

“Oh…” Gotsumon pulled his knees to his chest, curling up into a stony little ball. “I was supposed to help bring one of the Digidestined to the castle. I kind of messed up.”

“Is that so,” Wizardmon spoke slowly, taking in the implications of what the Digimon had just revealed. “How did you mess up?”

“She was nice to me. I… I didn’t want her to be the Master’s prisoner.” Gotsumon was ashamed of what he was saying. In his Master’s eyes, what he’d done was wrong, and it was hard not to feel like it was. But he’d only done it because he didn’t want Taylor to feel as trapped as all the other servants of Myotismon. And his heart told him that was the right thing to have done. “I tried to warn her. I tried to make her run away with me. But I was too late… and now she’s up there, with the Master.” 

“You are brave indeed, little Gotsumon,” There was admiration in Wizardmon’s voice.

“Hey, can’t you do all kinds of magic?” Gotsumon asked, slowly rising to a sitting position. “I’ve heard about all sorts of things you can do. So why are you still here? Couldn’t you just magic your way out?”

“I would. But my staff was taken from me. Without it, there’s not much I can do to escape.” Wizardmon responded, slouching slightly in defeat.

“Oh… that’s the one with the sun on the top, right?” Gotsumon asked, suddenly excited. Wizardmon nodded. “I know where that is! My Master, he keeps it as a trophy in the main hall. I could show you the way…” Gotsumon stared sadly up at the closed and barricaded dungeon door. Unlike the wooden doors in the rest of the castle, it was made of the same hard black mineral as the walls, impenetrable.

“Gotsumon…” A faint hope had returned to Wizardmon’s voice. “I think you may be able to help us both. Perhaps we can still save this friend of yours.” He glanced around at the sheer rock of the dungeon’s walls. “Can you control stone?”

“Yes, but…” Gotsumon was nervous. “This is moissanite. It takes a _lot_ of work to move moissanite. I can only do a little at a time.”

“That should be just fine,” Wizardmon’s eyes betrayed a smile, hidden by the collar of his cloak. He gazed upwards towards the unprotected hinges of the dungeon door above, drilled right into the rock. “Let’s get out of here and make things right.”

\---

Taylor was back in the echoing hallways, tracing her hand along the stone walls as she was escorted back to her room. She was free of both Pumpkinmon and Demidevimon, who were still enjoying themselves in the dining hall. She’d found dessert to be quite soporific, and wanted nothing more than to collapse into the giant soft bed that waited for her back in her room.

But she was unfortunately not alone. Myotismon strode confidently beside her, eyes never wavering as he observed her, that knowing little smirk still plastered on his face. She tried to stay calm, tried to keep her thoughts from wandering to all the horrible things he could do to her, especially since she was a little foggy from the wine and general exhaustion.

“Is the room to your liking?” He asked, breaking the silence. The shock of his voice in the quiet hallway sent her into a sudden panic. She gulped, her mouth dry as she searched for the words to respond.

“It’s very nice,” she choked out before regaining her composure and continuing. “I like the tapestries. Though…” finally, she felt loose enough to ask the question that had been bugging her since she was shown her room. “How did you get human clothes? How did you get human clothes in _my size_?”

“I’m glad you like the room,” he smiled, eyes finally leaving her. She relaxed slightly as his gaze shifted. “And it’s quite simple. Some Digimon are able to access data available in the human realm… this includes data for clothing. It was how Digimon were able to harvest code for clothing many, many eons ago. I simply had my Digimon access a few garments I thought you might like. As for sizing, well… some time ago, I had one of my many servants size you up while you slept.” Taylor looked up at him. He admitted so openly to that, something so objectively unsettling.

“That’s… really creepy,” she decided to be just as open. “The part about getting stuff I liked and _especially_ the part where you had someone measure me in my sleep. What the hell, man? And you want me to trust you?” The wine had clearly had more of an impact than she’d expected. She was suddenly nervous she’d crossed some line, and he’d finally treat her like a prisoner rather than a guest.

Instead, he laughed.

“ _Ha_! Wasn’t I honest with you just now? Even about something I knew you’d find somewhat upsetting?” His gaze returned to her. She felt small as he stared down at her. “And I only did it for you. It was better that we had clothes ready. Didn’t it make you feel at home? Didn’t you feel welcome?”

Taylor broke his gaze, staring ahead down the gloomy hallway. He was right. That room had felt like hers. She’d found herself eager to return to it, like it was her refuge in this huge, threatening castle.

“I know you’re just doing these nice things to manipulate me,” she spoke matter-of-factly. “You aren’t fooling me. I know there’s a catch.”

“It’s true that I hope you’ll be helpful to me,” he answered. She was surprised with his frankness, expecting he’d try and coat his words in honey to placate and distract her yet again. “But that doesn’t mean my actions aren’t genuine. I _want_ you to feel comfortable here. I don’t want to force you to do anything, I want you to come around of your own volition.”

He stopped, and she realized they were in front of her door. He turned to her, crouching down so his face was level with hers for the first time since she’d arrived. His eyes were kind. It made her stomach turn, but she wasn’t sure if it was because she was sickened.

“But for now, you should rest,” he took her hand in his, and as before, raised it to his lips. They lingered much longer than before, his eyes closing as he held her there. He was still cold, but the shiver that ran up her arm and through her body was warm. After too long, he lowered her hand, but didn’t let go, raising his head to look her in the eye. 

“Sleep well.” He stood, once again towering over her, finally freeing her hand. She stumbled back into her door, grabbing the handle and quickly letting herself in. Before he could say anything else, she’d closed the door in his face.

Taylor stood, back to the door, her pulse quick and heavy. This Digimon was dangerous. She could tell he was trying to use some kind of wiles on her, and hoped the wine was the only reason she felt it might be working. She took a deep breath, releasing it slowly, quelling the unwelcome feelings in her chest. She would not fall for this.

Myotismon stood for a moment in the hall, listening to the pounding of her heart on the other side of the door. He could feel her giving in already. A pity, he thought. 

Her heartbeat faded from his ears as she moved further into the room. He took his leave, making his way back down the corridor, toward his private study. He’d secretly hoped she would put up more of a fight than this, looking forward to the slow game of chess he would have to play to win her favor. But at least it wouldn’t take long. He thought back to the tantalizing taste of her blood, savouring the memory on his tongue as he went about the night’s tasks.

\---

The hallways of the castle had been dark and silent for hours. Pumpkinmon and Demidevimon had long since ceased their revelry, retiring drunkenly to their quarters. The only sign of life was a Bakemon, slowly drifting up and down the hallway outside Taylor’s door, ordered to make sure the girl slept through the night undisturbed.

Two figures watched from the shadows as it rounded the end of its loop, heading back down the hallway, humming a tuneless song under its breath as it tried to stave off boredom.

“W _hat do we do?_ ” Gotsumon whispered up to his companion. “ _We can’t fight that thing without making any noise…_ ” Wizardmon nodded in silent agreement.

“ _We’ll have to cause a distraction,_ ” Wizardmon whispered in response. He thought for a moment. As the Bakemon reached the far end of the hallway, back still turned, Wizardmon held out his staff, freshly retrieved from its place in Myotismon’s grand hall. After a moment of concentration, the image of Myotismon appeared around the far corner of the hall, directly in the Bakemon’s line of sight.

“Bakemon,” the false Myotismon barked. The Bakemon stopped in its tracks, confused.

“Is something wrong, Master?” The Bakemon moaned in its wavering, ghostly voice.

“Come here for a moment,” the image of Myotismon demanded, disappearing around the corner and beckoning for the Bakemon to follow. As any dutiful servant would, it complied, and was soon out of sight.

“ _Quickly, the illusion won’t last long,_ ” Wizardmon guided Gotsumon quickly down the hall and toward Taylor’s door.

Wizardmon kept his eyes locked on the corner as Gotsumon tried the door.

“ _It’s locked_ ,” he said, a tinge of panic in his voice as he tugged uselessly at the handle.

“ _No doors here are locked for you, Gotsumon,_ ” Wizardmon said, encouraging the Digimon.

“ _But it might make a lot of noise…_ ” Gotsumon worried.

“ _You don’t have to take down the whole door_ ,” Wizardmon explained. “ _Just so long as you break the lock. Can you do that?_ ”

“ _Yes… yes, I think I can._ ” Gotsumon examined the lock, set into the stone wall. He could push out just enough rock to push the locking mechanism back into the door. It might splinter the wood, but that wouldn’t be too loud if he went slowly.

Bakemon followed his Master a little ways down the hall. Eventually, Master Myotismon stopped, turning most of the way to Bakemon. His eyes were fixed on some far-off point in space. Bakemon glanced in the direction Myotismon stared. It was a blank wall.

“Master?” Bakemon moaned. “Is everything all right…?”

The two continued to stand in silence for several moments.

The lock had been shoved back into the door. There had been splintering, but the sound had remained muffled, quiet. Gotsumon had done it. He turned the handle gently so as not to make any more noise, and to his delight, the door opened, beckoning the two Digimon into the dark space beyond.

“ _Wizardmon!_ ” He whispered, already halfway through the door. Wizardmon hurried after him, eyes never leaving the end of the hallway.

Master Myotismon suddenly disappeared, as if he’d never been there. Bakemon shook his head. Sometimes the night makes you see weird things, he told himself. Oh, well. Back to patrolling.

\---

Taylor was in a dead sort of sleep. The kind of black, dreamless sleep that comes when you’re utterly exhausted. She was floating in nothingness, her muscles fully relaxing for the first time in weeks.

Until she was wrenched from that sleep by a shaking sensation. Her eyes shot open as she remembered where she was. Her heart thumped as she took in her surroundings, still half asleep, convinced Myotismon or his servants had come to carry out whatever dark plans they had for her.

But as her eyes adjusted, she was delighted to see Gotsumon, staring down at her as he shook her shoulder. This unfortunately reminded her of her still-fresh wounds, which ached anew at Gotsumon’s touch.

“I’m awake, I’m _awake_ ,” she grabbed his small hands, lifting them from her tender flesh. She sat up, suddenly realizing what it meant that he was here, alive. “ _Gotsumon!_ I… I thought for sure you’d be dead or something. What happened?”

“Myotismon threw me in the dungeon,” he explained. “But I met someone there. He’s a friend, he can help us escape.” He motioned into the darkness, where Taylor was surprised to see a dark figure, roughly human-sized. A wide hat and high-collared cloak obscured his features, and for a moment she wondered if another human or even one of her friends had managed to find her. It would be such a relief to see another human face.

As the figure stepped from the shadows, however, the light from the moon fell on his blue-tinged skin and unearthly eyes, and she knew him to be another Digimon.

“You are Taylor, the human?” Wizardmon asked, stepping closer. His clothing obscured all but his eyes, gazing at her with something like awe. He closed his eyes and kneeled before her, as if he were a knight before his queen. His cape flared out dramatically with the motion before settling around him. “I am Wizardmon, friend to the Digidestined.” He looked back up at her, urgency in his voice. “You’re in great danger here. We must get you as far away from the castle as possible. Come, before the Bakemon discovers what we’ve done.” He gently took her hand in his, clad in a thick leather glove, guiding her from the bed and towards the open window.

\---

Bakemon drifted slowly down the hall, trying to entertain himself as best he could by taking note of small differences in the stone walls. That one had a chip on it. That one had a little smudge that looked like File Island. He should probably tell the Bakemon in charge of cleaning about that… oh, and that one was a little more red than black. Fascinating.

When he reached the door on the second or third sweep since the interruption, he realized there was something off about it. The wood of the doorframe had splintered, a stone outcropping jutting out of the wall. He could have sworn that hadn’t been there before. Seemed like something he would have noticed.

Bakemon figured he should check and make sure all was well with the prisoner, since that was his job. He turned the doorknob slowly so as not to disturb whoever was on the other side.

The room was dark, but he could clearly see that the bed was empty, covers rumpled and used. He thought he saw a flash of movement at the window, a blue piece of cloth flapping in the wind. He floated to the window as quickly as he could, but when he looked out, saw nothing but the sheer wall of the castle, descending down into darkness. He chalked it up to his imagination. After all, it wouldn’t be the first strange thing he saw tonight. First, he thought he’d seen two shadowy figures in the hallway beyond, then the visit from Master Myotismon that may or may not have been real.

Myotismon. He was going to be furious. Bakemon didn’t doubt that when he informed the Master of the prisoner’s escape, despite his sole task being “make sure the prisoner doesn’t escape”, he would most likely be killed on the spot. He took a deep breath, coming to terms with his mortality. At least he knew he’d be re-born somewhere. Not exactly the same Bakemon, but maybe one who’d have a longer life.

\---

Pumpkinmon rushed down the long hallway to his Master’s chambers, suddenly all too sober. He knew it was risky disturbing him like this, especially since Master Myotismon had a habit of shooting the messenger, but he knew this would be important.

He’d only a few moments ago been drunkenly stumbling towards the dungeon to further abuse his former compatriot, singing a joyful song to himself. He’d always thought Gotsumon was terribly dull, and secretly despised being paired with him. They’d gotten along at times, but for the most part, he’d seen his partnership with the rock-headed little Rookie as an insult. Pumpkinmon was an Ultimate, and though he knew he wasn’t as powerful as most Ultimates, surely he wasn’t so weak as to be considered a _Rookie_.

But at the same time, he did know he was often unfair to Gotsumon. He was often cruel to the poor Digimon, taking out his frustration at being underestimated on the creature who had the least impact on the decision. Gotsumon was just so _annoying_. So childlike. He couldn’t help it.

So here he was, on his way to gloat that he’d finally proven himself, looking forward to tormenting his former partner in celebration of his own success. Even though he knew he wasn’t exactly in his Master’s good graces, it wasn’t _him_ rotting in the dungeon. He was still better than _someone_.

He rounded the corner, and as the light from his glowing face lit up what was once the door to the dungeon, now a pile of cracked stone, he knew his plans for this evening would have to change.

Pumpkinmon stood outside his Master’s chambers, panting as he caught his breath and readying himself for Master Myotismon’s anger. But as he raised his small fist to the door, he heard a strange muttering from the dark hallway behind him. He turned to see a Bakemon, hurrying down the hall just as he had, clearly with some unpleasant news based on the troubled expression it wore.

“Oh, hello Pumpkinmon,” Bakemon came to a stop in front of the pumpkin-headed Digimon. “Excuse me, I have something important to report to Master Myotismon.”

“By all means, go ahead,” Pumpkinmon stepped aside, grinning maliciously. Perhaps he wouldn’t have to be the bearer of bad news, after all. The Bakemon knocked delicately on the door, nervous.

“Master Myotismon,” he called out, his voice wavering even more than usual. “I have something important to tell you!”

There was silence for a moment, then the door slowly creaked open, a red glow emanating from within.

“ _Enter,_ ” the booming voice of their Master, already tinged with anger, echoed through the hall. Pumpkinmon let the Bakemon through first.

Bakemon hovered into the room, dark but for a ring of candelabras, lit with red-tinted flame. Myotismon stood with his back to the Digimon, engrossed in the study of some ancient tome. Many such books were scattered across the floor, open to various pages.

“M-master,” the word caught slightly in Bakemon’s throat. “The prisoner has…” he hung on this last word, trying to hold on to as many precious moments as he could before he finished his sentence and, most likely, his life.

“Has _what_?” Myotismon turned, his eyes fiery with anger.

“Escaped, Master,” Bakemon tensed. Myotismon stood for a moment, then glanced back down at his book, shutting it with a thump that echoed through the dark, cavernous room.

“Did I not station you outside the door for the very purpose of ensuring the prisoner did _not_ escape? How has this happened? Did you simply let her _walk away_?!”

“I-I’m not sure Master, she just disappeared--” Bakemon stammered. Myotismon didn’t let the Digimon continue. He’d heard enough. He summoned a flashing whip of red lightning and struck the creature through. The Bakemon dissolved into pixels instantly, its essence returning to the aether.

“ _Master_!” Pumpkinmon rushed in, still nervous, but hoping to seem helpful and therefore less disposable. “The traitor Gotsumon has escaped from the dungeon! I went to check on him, and found the door destroyed.” He stood, panicking internally, as Myotismon turned away from him and stared into one of the red flames of the candles, whip still clutched in his fist.

“Wizardmon,” Myotismon finally spoke, spitting out the name like it was a vile worm. “He and Gotsumon have undoubtedly taken the girl. We must act quickly. Come, Pumpkinmon.” Myotismon stalked past Pumpkinmon, out the door and into the hallway.

Pumpkinmon breathed a sigh of relief. His Master’s fury had been stated by the Bakemon, while it seemed Pumpkinmon had gained a precious few points in his Master’s eyes.

\---

Taylor glanced over her shoulder as she ran, her legs burning. The castle was retreating back into the darkness of the cliff-face as they ran towards the forest below. Her heart was beating painfully fast, not only from the headlong sprint, but from the fear that they’d be caught any second.

“What were you doing in the castle?” She finally managed to gasp out. “How do I know you’re not working for Myotismon?”

“I suppose there’s no way I can prove that without a doubt,” Wizardmon responded. “But I will be truthful with you. My name is Wizardmon, I was the keeper of the Digital Spirits. I was to make sure they didn’t fall into the wrong hands before your arrival.”

Taylor searched her memories. Lopmon and Impmon had mentioned there’d been some Digimon in charge of the Digital Spirits, one who had vanished mysteriously. She couldn’t remember a name. The amount of new information had been so overwhelming those first couple weeks, it’d been difficult to keep details straight. The name _could_ have been Wizardmon...

“I… failed.” She could hear the defeat in Wizardmon’s voice as he spoke. “Myotismon found the spirits, and though I tried to protect them, I could not. I did manage to scatter seven of the spirits throughout the Digital World, but not before Myotismon took the eighth.”

Taylor slowed at the realization.

“He… he has my Digital Spirit?” She came to a stop.

“Please, we must keep running,” Wizardmon paused, turning back to her and the shadowy castle beyond. He stepped forward, wrapping his gloved hand around hers and urging her forward. She yanked her hand from his.

“If he has it, I should take it before we leave,” a hint of anger had edged into her voice. “I’m sick of being ferried around at the whims of people who are more powerful than me. I want to be able to fight for _myself._ ” She turned, taking a step back towards the castle.

“ _No_ , Taylor!” Gotsumon rushed forward, wrapping himself around her arm and pulling down with his full weight, keeping her rooted to the spot. “That’s what we’re trying to save you from. He _did_ something to it.”

“Gotsumon is right,” Wizardmon took a step forward. “He’s altered it in some way. It’s corrupted. There’s no telling what will happen if you Digivolve. Trust me, it’s better to be as you are than to be at the whims of Myotismon.”

Taylor took another look back at the castle. If she tried to return and they were caught, Gotsumon and Wizardmon would surely be killed, with no guarantee that she’d be able to retrieve the Digital Spirit. And if it was ‘corrupted’, whatever that meant… they were probably right. If Myotismon had done something to the spirit, it might be best to leave it, as much as it pained her to do so.

She allowed herself to be pulled away, and turned her back to the castle, continuing the sprint to the forest.

They finally hit the treeline, the dark branches covering their escape. Taylor ran with renewed vigor, feeling as if they’d passed some sort of barrier, like Myotismon wouldn’t be able to track them now that they’d escaped from the barren mountainside.

Wizardmon, however, seemed even more on-edge here, glancing up at the branches nervously.

“Master Myotismon has eyes in the trees,” Gotsumon spoke up, slowing his pace considerably. “We have to be careful, or they’ll spot us--” Wizardmon suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, holding out his arms to catch his companions before they ran another step.

Taylor was confused, looking around for what Wizardmon could have spotted. She squinted at a tree ahead, where Wizardmon seemed to be staring intently. There, hanging from a branch, she could just make out a vague black shape. It almost looked like a cocoon.

“We must be as silent as possible,” Wizardmon began inching carefully around the tree, Taylor and Gotsumon close on his heels, all silent as the grave as they made their way farther into the woods. Taylor realized now just how quiet the forest was. There were no night insects, no birds, not even the whispering of wind through leaves. There was nothing to cover any noise she might make. She wished she could quiet her thunderous heartbeat, worried it might awaken whatever occupied these woods.

Soon, they’d managed to get far enough away from the shape in the tree that Wizardmon straightened, continuing at a hurried yet cautious pace, still glancing up at the trees.

“ _What was that?_ ” Taylor whispered as quietly as she could, once she was sure they’d left the tree far behind.

“ _One of Master’s bats,_ ” Gotsumon whispered in response. The cocoon-like shape suddenly made sense. A bat, hanging from a branch.

“ _Shh,_ ” Wizardmon shushed them quietly, turning and placing a finger over the general area where his lips would be. He pointed a few yards away, where another bat clung to the low branches of a tree, wings folded around its body.

They resumed their silent creeping, each watching the trees carefully, watchful for yet more bats. It was going to take an eternity to get through these woods. But Taylor could be patient. Her freedom was on the line.

A curious sound picked up in the distance. At first, Taylor thought it must be the wind, finally sweeping through the leaves of the silent forest. As it increased in volume, the leaves above them as still as statues, Taylor realized it was not the wind. Her gaze shifted up, past the trees.

Silhouetted against the dark night sky, numbering in the hundreds, were bats, flying from the direction of the castle. The sound of their leathery wings and barely-audible calls now filled the air, increasing in volume to a near-deafening roar compared to the silence of the forest.

The bats in the trees around them sprang to life, screeching as no earthly bats could, flapping their wings at the three interlopers.

“We weren’t fast enough…” Wizardmon said with utter defeat. Taylor could see his shoulders visibly sink as the bats swarmed the skies above. But she wasn’t ready to give up yet. She grabbed Gotsumon’s hand, sprinting ahead through the trees as quickly as her legs could carry her. 

“We can still outrun them, come on!” She shouted to Wizardmon, glancing back at him quickly before continuing on, expecting him to follow.

“Digidestined Taylor… don’t give up hope! I _will_ return for you!” Wizardmon called after the girl as she disappeared into the trees. Myotismon was coming, and he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance against the more powerful Digimon. He wouldn’t repeat the same mistake that had landed him in the dungeon of the black castle. As much as it pained him, he had to leave the girl with that monster.

He held out his staff, concentrating as he swung his arm in an arc. A stuttering line of bright light trailed behind the sun at its tip, forming a circle in the air before him. 

Wizardmon stepped through, disappearing as the bats descended on the forest, the light fading as his form evaporated into the night.

Taylor and Gotsumon continued their mad dash down the mountain. They practically flew between the trees, the forest around them getting denser as they went, blocking the skies above. This raised her spirits, giving her hope that it was possible they could slip away from the eyes of Myotismon.

She became aware of another set of footsteps, fast and small, approaching from behind. She turned, expecting to see Wizardmon finally catching up to them. But instead, she saw the malicious glowing grin of Pumpkinmon as he charged towards them. His fiery eyes were set on Gotsumon.

“Gotsumon, look out!” She tried to warn the little Digimon, but was too late. Pumpkinmon leapt after him, the momentum of the hill carrying him forward with enough force to catapult both Digimon down the hill and out of sight.

Taylor chased after them as best she could. The adrenaline of their escape was wearing off, and she could suddenly feel how her muscles screamed, feel the raw flesh in her lungs as they took in air. There was blood in the back of her throat. Still she ran.

Until she broke through the trees, finding herself in a clearing, the forest floor giving way once again to sliding shale. She stumbled, falling to the hard ground, tumbling over herself for a few feet until finally coming to a stop.

She raised herself to her knees, glancing at her new surroundings as she stood on shaky legs. Her eyes widened at the sight before her.

In the middle of the clearing was a great swarm of bats. Countless more flew in the skies above, all seemingly converging on this spot. At the base of the mass, Pumpkinmon stood, a triumphant grin plastered across his pumpkin head, Gotsumon pinned under his feet.

The mass suddenly broke away, scattering back to the skies, and Myotismon stood before her. Taylor’s breath caught in her throat. It was over, the escape had failed.

“Come along, Taylor,” his voice boomed across the clearing. He spread his arms as if offering an embrace, his expression almost cocky as he stared down at her, alone and defenseless. Taylor stood defiantly, though she could feel her legs quivering unsteadily, threatening to give out.

“You should be getting _rest_ tonight,” Myotismon chided, taking a step forward. Taylor took a shaky step back, her foot slipping slightly on the rocky ground. “How very rude of those two to interrupt it. And for what? Now here you are, alone again. Well… not _all_ alone, I suppose. Your little Gotsumon is still here.” Pumpkinmon scampered off of Gotsumon as his Master’s attention shifted. The Digimon stood by, snickering excitedly as his Master placed a single giant boot on the pathetic Rookie.

“No, please!” Taylor called out, stepping forward. “Please stop. Don’t kill him.”

Myotismon stood still for a moment, letting the threat linger before finally pulling back. Gotsumon let out the breath he’d held as he awaited his execution, relieved to have a few more precious moments of life.

“For you, Taylor… I’ll let him live.” Myotismon bowed elegantly towards the girl, his eyes never leaving her. Pumpkinmon resumed his post atop Gotsumon, keeping him pinned as his Master spoke. “But that still leaves Wizardmon, supposed hero who came to rescue you in the night from the evil Digimon. Where is he, exactly?” Myotismon took a dramatic look around, gesturing out over the dark woods.

Taylor stood in defiant silence. She was sure he was just out of sight somewhere, readying an attack to aid in their continued escape.

“I know where he is,” Myotismon’s eyes returned to the girl as he continued toying with her. “Since Gotsumon graciously returned his staff to him, he was able to teleport away, leaving you and Gotsumon, _his rescuer_ , to be hunted down. _So_ brave.”

“Y-you’re lying,” She stammered, suddenly unsure. “What did you _do_ to him?”

“I won’t lie to you, Taylor. I’ve promised you that,” he took a step forward. Taylor took another step back towards the woods, trying to ready herself for another sprint. “ _He left._ I’m sure he told himself he had a very noble reason, that it was for the _best_ , but what he wouldn’t admit to himself is that he was afraid he’d lose another fight. And he was right. It would have been suicide to stay. So… he abandoned you.”

“He wouldn’t do that,” she murmured in response, certainty slipping.

“Oh? Do you know him well, then?” Myotismon looked amused, chuckling. “As someone who does know him well, he is a ‘ _good_ ’ Digimon. He fights for what he thinks is right, he defends the innocent against Digimon like… well, me. But...” he took another step forward, and Taylor tried to step back. Her legs finally rebelled, giving way as if her very bones had turned to rubber. She fell, hitting the ground hard. Myotismon stepped forward again as he spoke. “ _I_ won’t abandon you.”

“Get _away_ from me!” She shouted at the approaching Digimon. “Wizardmon told me about how you stole my Digital Spirit. He said you did something to it. So stop trying to act like you’re my friend, you’re a _creep_!” She grabbed a rock, hurling it at him as she spoke. He dodged easily, the smirk never leaving his lips as she lobbed another stone at him.

“It’s true,” he admitted, a little disappointed that Wizardmon had already spoiled some of the fun. “I do have your Digital Spirit. And I did alter it. But it was only to make it _better_.” He’d finally reached her, kneeling down as she picked up another rock. He loomed over her, blotting out the light from the stars. He grabbed her wrist, the rock tumbling uselessly from her hand. Her arm looked like a doll’s in his massive grip, and felt as effective. He leaned in closer as he spoke. “The other Digidestined… they will all be weak compared to you. When you transform, you will be magnificent. A sight to behold.” He couldn’t help but let a little excitement slip into his voice. He’d been working towards this for years, and finally, he was going to see the fruits of his labor.

Taylor stared into his eyes. She was still trying to seem strong in the face of his words, holding his gaze with what she hoped was defiance. She knew there was some truth to what he was saying, but it was half-truth. He was leaving out the key details that would undoubtedly be the most important.

Myotismon’s grip on her arm softened, his hand sliding slowly up her arm to meet hers. He carefully held her hand in his, the glove smooth and pleasant on her skin. His eyes softened, his smirk turning to a kind and welcoming smile.

“Come back with me,” he urged. “And discover your greatness.”

Taylor thought for a moment. She was certain at this point that, if Wizardmon was still out there, he was not coming for her. Gotsumon lay, near unconscious and pinned by Pumpkinmon. It was just as Myotismon said. She was alone. There was no other option. 

“Okay,” her voice was quiet, tinged with what little anger she could muster. “I’ll come with you.” A fanged grin spread across his face.

“Glad you’ve made the right choice,” he said as he stood, pulling her to her feet. Myotismon placed one massive hand on her lower back. The other lifted her legs from under her, scooping her up as effortlessly as if she were a paper doll.

He pressed Taylor close to him. She felt useless and weak in his arms, his strength reminding her of how little control she had over her own life. He could make her do anything he wanted.

Before he began his return to the castle, Myotismon glanced back at Pumpkinmon, who gazed up at his Master eagerly. Myotismon nodded. Pumpkinmon understood, and his grin widened as he watched the bats obscure his Master from sight, carrying the powerful Digimon and the human back to the castle.

Pumpkinmon jumped from Gotsumon’s back, turning to face the already beaten Digimon.

“Looks like that’s it, buddy,” he said with mocking disappointment. “See you on the other side.”

Pumpkinmon stared for a moment into Gotsumon’s terrified eyes, then loosed a powerful flame, one he’d been saving up all night. Gotsumon had already been nearly destroyed, barely hanging on by a thread. The flame was enough to break him down into pixels in an instant.

They floated away, returning to the data of the Digital World to be recycled.

Pumpkinmon clapped his hands together, congratulating himself for a job well done, and turned on his heel, starting back to the castle.

\---

Wizardmon gazed on from his vantage point. He’d managed to travel far from the peering eyes of the bats, but close enough that he could still see what became of his brief companions. He could only teleport short distances, and it exhausted him. He would have to be careful on the rest of his journey, as he was in no shape to fight anyone, not even some wild Rookie wandering the woods.

He watched as Myotismon took the girl back to the castle, and his heart mourned for her. He’d now failed the girl twice. Once when he let Myotismon steal her Digital Spirit, and now again, when he’d allowed his weakness to get the better of him.

But he had important information to relay. Leaving her now was the only way to make sure she could be rescued, as he would have died if he stayed and fought, and the knowledge of where she was and what Myotismon was planning would die with him. Now he could find the others, and together, they could come back for her. The thought didn’t eclipse his guilt, but at the very least, it made it liveable for the time being.

He retreated to the cover of the forest, and began the long trek to Black Pine Village.

\---

Taylor woke to a sunlit room, the sound of howling wind in place of birdsong filtering in from her window.

The last thing she remembered was being cradled in Myotismon’s long arms. She’d had no dreams, only deep, pure sleep.

She blinked, adjusting to the waking world, and sat up, coming face-to-face with Demidevimon perched at the end of her bed. She let out an involuntary gasp.

“Finally,” he moaned. “You’ve been asleep forever! Now eat already. I was supposed to make sure you ate. I can’t leave until you do, and I got a lot of other important stuff to get to today, so hurry it up. I’m a busy Digimon.” He pointed one talon in the direction of a tray that sat waiting on her bedside table, laden with food. Upon seeing the dishes of pastries, fruit, and cured meats, her stomach finally caught up with the rest of her and awoke, growling greedily.

She shifted toward the edge of the bed, her muscles heavy and weak from the mad dash down the mountainside, and reached for a croissant. She puzzled over it for a moment. It wasn’t the first complicated food she’d encountered in the Digital World, but the implications of existence were baffling. Was there some place in the castle where a Digimon patissier rolled out sheets of puff pastry by hand, carefully folding them into fine pastries and baking them in a wood oven? Were there fields of wheat where they harvested the grain, mills where they processed the flour, some sort of cow they milked for butter?

Taylor supposed there weren’t. Like the clothes, these must be made from harvested data from Earth. Some website somewhere had detailed the perfect croissant, and the data had made its way into the code that made up this world. Perhaps there was a tree or bush that grew croissants, perhaps danishes grew like a fungus, biscuits like potatoes, needing to be wrenched from the ground and dusted off before serving.

She took a bite of the croissant. It was flawless, flaky, warm on the inside as if fresh-baked.

“There, you ate,” Demidevimon left his perch, flapping to the door. “Master Myotismon will come for you later. And don’t try any funny business-- there’s a Bakemon guarding the door _and_ one at the window, so just sit tight and stay out of trouble.” He opened the door with his clawed foot, slamming it shut behind him as he disappeared into the hallway beyond.

And with that, Taylor was alone.

\---

She busied herself as best she could. She tried the door for good measure, finding it sealed shut despite the broken lock. She went to the window, though she knew there was no way to clamber down the smooth black face of the castle as the soft, easily broken human she was. There was a Bakemon floating just outside, as Demidevimon had said. It waved to her with a ghostly arm. She did not return the gesture.

As she continued her breakfast, she paced the room, her thoughts scattered. She tried to busy herself by examining the tapestries, trying to parse what stories they told. They were exquisitely woven, the detail in each Digimon's face stunning. One seemed to tell the story of an Agumon through four of its life cycles, making different choices in each, changing into different Digivolutions accordingly. Another was a map, a long Trailmon snaking between villages, represented by small collections of buildings and Digimon. The wide expanses of wilderness were populated by large, angry creatures, several of whom she recognized from previous battles. In the center of the map was a mountain range, black, surrounded by dark purple clouds. A single skull marked its peak, communicating an ominous “you are here”.

The tapestries could only hold her attention for so long. She needed more distractions from the slowly mounting anxiety that threatened to overcome her. The room was mostly bare save for furniture, but a small bookshelf rested against one wall, a handful of lonely books populating its mostly barren shelves. She opened one, flipping through its pages absently. It was full of illegible runes. Taylor and the Digidestined had come across writing in all sorts of languages in the Digital World, including English, but it seemed any scholarly information or ancient texts they’d found were written in these unparsable glyphs.

She placed the book back on the shelf and selected a particularly ancient-looking tome from the shelf below. She cracked its spine, finding it to be similarly unreadable. But it had pictures.

She look it to an armchair made for someone at least twice her size, settling in as best she could. The first few chapters seemed to detail different methods for Digivolving. The images were well-drawn, the style colorful and geometric. Partway through the book, she was surprised to see the image of a human, a strange symbol hovering over their head. They stood next to an Agumon, and clutched a small device, glowing with runes. It seemed to be a crude version of her own Digivice.

As she continued turning the pages, she expected to see the human Digivolve, as her friends did. Instead, it was their Digimon companions who changed. There were now symbols and objects she didn’t recognize, the humans occasionally wearing necklaces or holding what looked like metal eggs. And finally, an image of the human hovering within a massive Digimon, their body seemingly melding with the creature. This was more familiar to her, though it was still different enough to spark her curiosity.

Taylor pondered over the images. It seemed clear they were showing that humans and Digimon could fuse, becoming strange combinations of human and Digimon, armored and powerful. She had never given much thought as to what the Digital Spirits were-- in a world where everything was so foreign, she’d taken a lot of new concepts at face value. But now, she wondered if the spirits had been Digimon at some point, their data so degraded that they no longer functioned as lone organisms, only able to exist as something like ghosts. The name Digital Spirits suddenly made a lot more sense.

She wondered what it would feel like to have a ghost living inside of her, wondered how it would change her, how Myotismon’s corruption would manifest. She didn’t think it would be impossible that it could alter the very fabric of her soul. The Digital Spirits had changed her friends, after all-- not just their bodies, but their personalities. Many had grown bolder, some had grown kinder or softer, some had stubbornly stayed the same or even gained a certain arrogance. She’d supposed it was only natural that changing into a powerful monster would have an impact on a person’s psyche. Of course their personality would change when they could turn into a beautiful centaur or a dinosaur who could shoot fireballs. But now she wondered if it was possible that the Digital ghosts could edit someone’s data, since that’s what they were now. Like their very DNA was rearranged.

The thought of Myotismon rearranging her DNA, making her into whatever it was he wanted, made her heart freeze in her chest. Her hands shook as she closed the book, suddenly uninterested in its images. She returned to the shelf, but the other books proved to be devoid of pictures, and therefore devoid of distractions for her increasingly addled mind. She’d run out of external stimuli to keep her thoughts occupied, and the bad feelings swept back in like a wave.

Gotsumon’s face immediately flashed in her mind, tired, scorched, afraid. She shook her head, trying to forget, trying not to think about what might have happened to him. Then the image of Wizardmon, falling farther and farther behind as she ran for her freedom, came unbidden from her memories. She groaned, hands covering her face as emotions threatened to overcome her. She pushed the feelings back down, trying to clear her mind.

There was nothing to be done, she reminded herself. The past was the past, it had already happened, and there was nothing she could do to change that now. She was safe for the time being. There was no point in wondering what horrible things might have happened to her friend, or whether she should have stayed with Wizardmon, or how she could have easily just remained on the Trailmon car with the Digidestined and never gotten herself into this mess to begin with.

She started pacing like some creature in a zoo, waiting for her captors to come free her from the anxious monotony.

\---

The sun was setting by the time a knock finally roused her from her panicked haze. Her heartbeat immediately quickened, nearly stopping dead as the knock came again. It was not the small quick knocking she would expect from smaller Digimon like Bakemon or Demidevimon. It made her nervous. She sat silent, unsure of what to do.

“Taylor,” Myotismon’s voice came from the other side of the door. “It’s time.” His words were heavy and serious.

She stood, heart still racing, unsure of what might happen next and terrified to find out. But there was nothing for her to do but go with the Digimon. Barricading the door would do nothing, he could easily break through. Even refusing to budge would be useless, as she would just be picked up and carried to wherever he wanted her to go. She was utterly at his mercy. 

Taylor slowly approached the door.

Myotismon could hear her heartbeat, quick and nervous. Though it ran counter to his ultimate goal, he relished the fear she felt for him. The corners of his mouth turned up into a devilish little smirk as she approached. The door opened, the human standing before him, gazing up with fear in her eyes. All pretense of strength seemed to have been sapped from her. He shuddered with the thrill of seeing her so broken. Wizardmon’s little escape attempt had seemed like a major annoyance at the time, but he couldn’t have wished for an easier way to crush her spirits. She was in the perfect state of mind for his evening plans.

He offered his arm, and she took it, her grip weak with resignation. They walked for some time in silence, his heavy footfalls echoing in the hallways.

“What happened to Gotsumon?” Taylor asked, afraid to learn the truth, but knowing she needed to hear it.

“He was set free,” Myotismon answered. It wasn’t exactly a lie. He was still trying his best not to lie to the girl… at least not fully. Her trust was too important to his plans. “I couldn’t keep him on my staff after what he’d done. But I didn’t kill him.”

“So… you banished him?” Taylor responded, her tone doubtful.

“Indeed,” Myotismon responded.

“I don’t believe you,” she replied with finality. Myotismon merely stared ahead, the smirk still plastered smugly on his face. She was frustrated with this game he was playing. She yanked her arm from his, turning to face the Digimon. “What _really_ happened to him?”

“I suppose I don’t know for sure,” Myotismon responded. “I wasn’t there. I left Pumpkinmon to chase him off, but... now that I think of it, they never did get along very well...” His tone was almost mocking as he spoke, teasing her with the lack of information. This was confirmation enough for Taylor.

“So you left him to die, then?” She backed away from him as she spoke, her voice rising with anger. “And you expect me to believe you’re totally free from guilt?”

“How could I be guilty of something I don’t even know about?” He reached for her arm, but she pulled away, flattening against the far wall. His eyes hardened at her defiance. “Come now, Taylor. You don’t have to fight me like this. I only have your best interests at heart--”

“And Wizardmon?” She nearly shouted. “Am I really supposed to believe he _teleported away_ after coming to rescue me?”

“He was rescuing _himself_ ,” Myotismon sneered at the mention of his name. “He’d been in my dungeon for months, he didn’t want to risk being taken back. Or wind up dead because he chose to stand and fight. Had Gotsumon not been so dead-set on your rescue, I doubt Wizardmon would have even thought to free you, that’s how focused he was on his own survival.”

As he spoke, Myotismon stepped toward the girl, looming over her. Rage had crept into his features, the smirk replaced with a hateful sneer. She was once again reminded of just how little power she had over her own fate. As much as she hated to admit defeat, she figured it was better to remain in the Digimon’s good graces, lest he run out of patience and decide to take what he wanted from her by force.

But his features softened, the fire receding from his eyes, his fangs no longer bared. Though it felt good to see that fear return to her eyes after she’d dared to defy him, he knew fear would get him nowhere with her. She needed to feel safe with him, protected. She needed to feel as if they were… friends. Outbursts like this could cost him, and he couldn’t risk losing what he’d worked so hard to achieve.

“I’ll admit,” he spoke, trying to sound gentle. “I knew Pumpkinmon would destroy the traitor.” Taylor continued her silent defiance. “But Wizardmon was gone before my bats even reached the forest’s edge. I assure you, he’s safe, wherever he is.” Myotismon was not used to this sort of interaction. He was used to ordering Digimon around, having them obey his every command, cowering in fear lest they be punished. It was unfamiliar territory.

Taylor stood against the wall for another moment, cautious, waiting to see if he would fly into a rage. But his gentlemanly demeanor seemed to have returned. She softened, her shoulders unclenching.

“Where are you taking me?” She gazed down the dark hallway.

“I think you know,” he smiled down at her, a cheekiness returning his voice. She supposed she did. It was all she’d been able to think about. Her Digital Spirit was somewhere in this castle, and until she had it, she would feel restless, incomplete, whether it was corrupted or not. She started back down the hallway, Myotismon gently guiding the way.

They continued on in silence for some time. They passed by countless candlelit passageways, the vast dining hall, what seemed to be a throne room. All were empty and cold, the castle seemingly vacant, though she knew there were Digimon that lived here. Perhaps Myotismon ordered them to hide in their quarters for the evening, risking no further interference.

Myotismon stopped suddenly. Taylor glanced around, seeing no doors or passages, only the empty hallway. But Myotismon lifted his hand to the wall, tracing a line with one gloved finger, and she understood. A doorway slid open, the entrance to a secret corridor revealing itself.

He motioned for her to enter, and she complied, allowing herself to be swallowed up by the darkness of the hidden entryway. Myotismon followed, placing a guiding palm on her back to help navigate the dark hall. The doorway slid shut behind them, sealing them away from the light.

Taylor couldn’t see the passage, but she could sense that it was narrow, and perhaps only tall enough to accommodate Myotismon’s frame. He urged her forward with a polite hand, and she stepped farther into the darkness, her footsteps slow and cautious. As they continued on, subtle shifts in the echoes of her nervous breaths hinted at a widening of the passage, until eventually, they were no longer in a passage at all.

Candles flickered to life around them, illuminating a vast, dark, mostly empty space. Her eyes adjusted to the light, taking in the same black stone walls she’d grown accustomed to, though rough-hewn in comparison. She could almost see the marks where the rock was carved by some ancient tool. The room had no ceiling, instead opening up to the dark night sky, starlight gently filtering in. It couldn’t penetrate all the way to the center of the room, though it was bright enough to do so. 

The starlight that would otherwise have bathed the room in a pleasant violet gloom was sucked into a swirling blackness that stood as the centerpiece in this secret place. The candles near the black hole, while still clearly flickering as strong as the others, were dimmer somehow, their light dulled by the presence of the darkness.

Taylor gazed into the black void, and knew it for what it was. Her very soul had felt it when she walked into the cavern. Within the darkness was a molded figure, a representation of the Digital Spirit she was meant to embody. Something within her ached when she looked at it, as if a part of her had been separated long ago, and the shards of her shattered soul yearned to be whole again.

Though her chest urged her forward, she held back. She’d been there to witness the other Digidestined claim their spirits. Something was very, very wrong. The other figures had all emitted light, glowing with the color of the elemental spirit within. As her friends merged with their spirits, they’d been enveloped in blinding light, their bodies seeming to dissolve as their bodies rearranged. This crouching figure, surrounded by a halo of darkness, two bat wings obscuring its features, couldn’t be right. Wizardmon’s words echoed in her mind. _Corrupted_.

“What did you do to it?” Her voice cracked as she spoke, desperation bleeding into her words. Her body felt as if it was being yanked forward, like a magnetic force was pulling her towards _it._ She dug in her heels.

“Very little,” Myotismon responded. His voice was surprisingly close. He must have crouched next to her as she stood, transfixed by the Digital Spirit. “Yours is the Spirit of Darkness, Taylor.” He was practically whispering in her ear, his cold breath brushing against her skin. She shivered.

“Wizardmon and Gotsumon said I shouldn’t Digivolve, that you did something _bad_ to the spirit,” Taylor practically gasped, her chest tight. “What did you _do_ ? Why does it _look_ like that?!” She stumbled backwards, trying to pull against it.

“You feel it calling to you, don’t you?” He placed a hand on her shoulder, pushing her forward effortlessly despite her attempts to resist. “It’s yours. _Take_ it.”

Taylor realized she already had her Digivice in her hand. She didn’t remember reaching for it.

"That's it, girl..." Myotismon urged her, his grip tightening as he continued to urge her towards the black void.

Before she knew what she was doing, she'd reached out to the pulsing darkness, her black Digivice activating for the first time. And as the candles went out, as the stars above dimmed, the two were finally joined.

\---

Taylor saw nothing but darkness. 

Until, in front of her, she could see a shape, somehow blacker than the surrounding shadow. It was huddled on all fours, shaking, distressed. It struggled, clawing at its face as if in pain, howling with a voice that filled her head and struck fear into her heart. She covered her ears, trying to block it out. But the sound was coming from inside, as if her very soul cried out.

She felt herself start to change. Before, when she’d watched the others transformed, she’d imagined what it might feel like-- maybe she’d feel her bones cracking and muscles bulging, twisting into new shapes. Or she’d simply black out and re-awaken in her new form, the transformation barely even noticed. Instead, it was like she was being undone. The very fabric of herself was peeled away, new shapes lain in their place. It felt like putting on armor, but armor that was her own flesh, still capable of feeling pain.

It felt like an eternity before she became aware of her physical presence again. She felt the cool stone beneath her bare feet. Heard the echoes of her heavy breathing against the walls. But the room was dark, darker than before, not even starlight reflecting off the rough black stone of the chamber. It was like her eyes were closed. But when she tried to open them, when she concentrated on moving her eyelids, nothing.

She lifted her arms, heavy and long, and touched where her eyes should be. Her impossibly long fingers felt only hard metal. Her palms traveled along its smooth surface until she reached the edge. Her entire upper face was covered in a solid metal sheet. She was blind.

However, as she stood, existing in her new flesh for the first time, she realized just how much she could hear. She could picture in her mind exactly what was in the room around her based on sound alone. Myotismon stood before her, and behind him she could sense the candelabras, now extinguished. She could smell the wisps of smoke still rising from their wicks. Far above somewhere, a night bird fluttered, its wings nearly silent. But _she_ could hear it.

Myotismon watched as what was once Taylor discovered herself. She was beautiful. He hadn’t needed to alter much, the only physical additions being a few special attacks and the steel plate over her eyes. She wouldn’t need to see. It would only confuse her on the battlefield. 

She was larger than he’d expected, her shoulders standing several feet above his head even while she crouched on all fours. Her arms, two great bat wings, were folded against her sides as she swung her long neck back and forth, a black mane of stringy hair flowing in its wake. Her fluted snub-nose flared as she sniffed the air, her long maw opening and closing, jagged teeth glinting in the candlelight. Her ears, as large as satellite dishes and twice as long, swiveled wildly at every new sound. A chain wrapped around one ankle, a symbol of servitude to her new Master.

“Ametridamon,” Myotismon’s voice was clear and steady. When she was a Digimon, he could take charge of her, just as he did any of his other servants. The possibilities delighted him, his imagination already racing with the things he could make her do. “How do you feel?”

She jumped at the sound of his voice, near deafening to her heightened sense of hearing. The name was new and old all at once. But she knew instinctively that’s who she was. ‘Taylor’ was a name that belonged to someone else. She was Ametridamon, had always been Ametridamon.

“I… feel…” Ametridamon’s voice felt strange, and sounded even stranger. It was deep, echoing, strained.

“Do you feel strong?” He stepped towards her, reaching out a hand. She flinched away. He was glad to see her reflexes hadn’t suffered for lack of sight.

“Yes. Strong.” She straightened a bit, slowly getting used to her new structure. She could sense the potential in her muscles. Could sense the power lurking within, ready to be set loose.

“Wonderful. Glad to hear it,” he stroked her neck as he spoke. “How about we test your new abilities? See what you can do?”

“W-what do you mean?” She asked slowly, still not used to her voice.

He leaned in close, one of her ears turning towards him as he spoke. 

“Do as I command. _Destroy the Digidestined_.”

As Ametridamon heard these words, she felt like she’d entered a dream. The walls spun, and yet, her body moved with purpose, knowing exactly where it needed to be. She didn’t feel like she was in herself anymore. She was a passenger, barely even conscious. As she spread her powerful wings, the candelabras scattering with the force of the motion, all her thoughts fell away, and she merely existed, some floating presence within a creature that acted on its own.

Myotismon backed away as she stretched her wings.

“What are you going to do?” He asked, testing. The creature paused, and for a moment, he was nervous it hadn’t worked. But she spoke, her voice loud and clear, reverberating against the walls of the now darkened chamber.

“Destroy the Digidestined,” she responded. Ametridamon didn’t recognize the words as they left her mouth, but they felt important. These words were her objective, her entire being. She flapped her wings, a great gust of air lifting her from the ground. She rose up towards the night sky.

Myotismon smiled wide. All those months of preparation had come to fruition, one more piece of his plan falling into place with perfect precision. He watched with glee as she continued her ascent, her mighty wings sending up great whorls of dust in their wake. The other Digidestined would surely quake with fear upon her arrival.

But he couldn’t let her go alone. She was still getting used to herself, and though she was strong, he wasn’t willing to risk her destruction when he still had so many plans for her. And above all, after waiting so long to see her Digivolve, he was desperate to see her perform. 

He followed, and both figures disappeared into the night.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/190150326@N08/50311911883/in/dateposted-public/)

\---

It wasn’t until their arrival in Black Pine Village that the Digidestined realized something was wrong. The argument that had finally dissolved into a tense silence as they completed their journey flared up with renewed vigor on all sides. But eventually, a small group split off to double back along the tracks, the others staying in the village to get settled.

When they found the Trailmon car standing empty, having not encountered the human girl anywhere along the tracks, panic began in earnest. After completing a wide sweep of the area, the panic morphed into a dull fear, aching in their chests as they returned, empty-handed, to the village.

David and his small battalion of humans who were either too wounded, too tired, or too annoyed with Taylor to go looking for the woman managed to secure rooms at the inn for all the Digidestined. This village was seemingly friendly to their cause, clearly terrified of being swallowed up by the Darkness that had consumed so many others. They loitered in the lobby as they waited for the others to return, David regaling the locals with tales of their journey. He was terribly calm about the missing member of their group, but the others, even those who were on his side, were beginning to feel the creep of apprehension as the sun sank towards the horizon.

They collectively jumped as the door slammed open, a furious Dominique standing in the entryway, eyes nearly aflame as she stared daggers at David. He turned from the Digimon that was fawning over him just in time to see Dominique marching in his direction with all the rage of hell in her eyes, Impmon quick on her heels and ready to scrap.

“ _David_ ,” she growled, a deep edge to her voice. “She’s gone, you son of a _bitch_.” She grabbed his collar, lifting the man out of his seat with strength she didn’t know she possessed.

“That sounds like a… _her_ problem…” he spluttered as he tried to wrench her hands from his shirt. It was an expensive shirt, but still salvageable despite the wear and tear of the Digital World, if she didn’t go tearing any holes in it.

“It’s an _us_ problem, moron,” Impmon punched the man lightly for emphasis, though he wanted to do so much more than that. “If something bad happens to her, it’s bad for _all_ of us! How do I get that through your thick _head_?” He punched again, David flinching despite the lack of force behind the blow.

“Y-you didn’t find her?” Asked Valentina, clutching her now bandaged arm. “I knew I should have gone. She could still be out there, are you _sure_ you looked hard enough? Did you even go into the woods or did you just follow the tracks?”

“We searched for hours, Valentina,” Darius sighed. “She was just… gone.”

“Isn’t there something we can do with our Digivices?” Javier piped up, standing from his chair. “Can we track her or something?”

“I’m afraid not,” Lopmon spoke up, her expression both troubled and exhausted. She flapped to the long table in the center of the room, settling in beside David and Dominique, still locked together by Dominique’s rage. She centered herself, breathing in deeply and releasing before she spoke her piece. “David. This is what happens when you sow dissent. There was simply no reason for you to say those awful things, and now our friend might very well be in danger because of it.”

“I should get to beat you up,” Impmon punched again. “ _Somebody’s_ got to teach you a lesson!”

“Impmon, no!” Lopmon responded as Impmon readied another punch. “A Digimon fighting a human wouldn’t be fair.” David breathed a small sigh of relief. “We’ll let Dominique beat him up. That’s much more fair.” David’s eyes went wide, and a satisfied grin spread over Dominique’s face as she gripped him tighter and readied her fist.

“Wait, wait!” Harish grabbed Dominique’s arm, holding her back from wailing on the businessman. “That’s not gonna solve anything. Taylor will still be missing, even if you give David a concussion. Then we’ll just have a concussed David to deal with on top of it.”

“He’s right,” Sophia sighed. “As much as I think he deserves it…” she glared pointedly at David. “It’s not like it’s going to change what happened. I think we’re all a little on-edge right now, and with good reason, but let’s not let it get the better of us, okay?”

“Aw, c’mon, just _one_ punch?” Dominique protested.

Darius stood, back to the wall, hands on his face as the others fussed at each other. As Sophia and Harish attempted to de-escalate, he straightened up, resolve settling into his features as his hands dropped to his sides.

“I’m going to bed,” he spoke, all heads turning to the tall, quiet man. He grabbed a room key from the table, his eyes never meeting those of his companions as he made his way upstairs and out of sight.

The sun had finally disappeared, only a dim glow along the horizon remaining. The other Digidestined seemed to suddenly realize how tired they were. The tensions eased somewhat, and the Digidestined made their way to their rooms, saving their ire for the light of morning.

\---

The Digidestined slept well that night, though some were more fitful than others. Lopmon and Impmon took it upon themselves to wait in the lobby all night, sleeping in shifts, hopeful that Taylor would wander in from the woods, drawn by the glow of firelight from the village.

But Taylor did not come. The Digidestined awoke the next morning with apprehension hanging heavy in the air. Though David protested, nervous about being in one place for too long, he was overruled, and the group decided to spend the day in Black Pine Village. They cycled through anxious waiting and desperate searching, but ultimately, no progress was made. The sun set and the familiar heated discussion was had. The Digidestined crawled into bed, each angry in their own way.

Dawn crept over the village, the dew of morning settling onto the grass, a mist hanging heavy on the cobbled streets. The sun was blocked by clouds, a gray, watery light bathing the world in a desaturated gloom.

A figure appeared on the edge of town. He was alone, and he was weak, having used a great deal of magic to cover the distance in as little time as possible. But he was here.

Javier and Sophia were already downstairs, one an early riser and the other too anxious to sleep. They sat at the long table in silence, two cups of tea steaming in front of them. The Digimon who owned the inn, a Floramon with a frilly red apron, sat with them, smiling politely. Over the course of their stay, she’d almost come to regret housing the humans. They’d been doing an awful lot of arguing and very little paying. She figured they’d probably be good to have around if the Darkness came to Black Pine Village, but she didn’t much like the idea of having to house them for much longer, especially since they were taking so much space from potential paying customers.

The door opened, its hinges creaking dramatically in the quiet of dawn. Javier and Sophie both stood, their hearts pounding. But the figure in the entryway was not Taylor. It was another Digimon, clutching a staff adorned with a bright golden sun, a blue hat and cape obscuring his features. They settled back down, returning to their untouched tea.

“Welcome, stranger!” Floramon bounced to her feet. “How can I help you?” Wizardmon took a step inside, stumbling somewhat with fatigue.

“I must speak to the Digidestined,” he gasped as he collapsed into a chair. Floramon couldn’t help but feel a nervous twinge as she took in the undoubtedly powerful Digimon before her. A Digimon like that, in a state like this, asking to see the Digidestined… Floramon smelled trouble. But she was the innkeeper, and this was her inn. She had a duty to perform.

“I’ll go and get you some tea,” she hurried out of the room.

“What do you want to talk to _us_ for?” Javier asked, eyeing the Digimon with suspicion. The skull affixed to the Digimon’s hat eyed Javier in turn, its eyes two blood red rubies. This did not look like the clothing of a friendly Digimon, though he’d been wrong before.

“Do you know something about Taylor?” Sophia asked, leaning closer to the Digimon. She got the sense that, despite his appearance, he was friendly. Something in his voice, desperate and kind.

“Yes,” he gasped as he caught his breath. “She’s alive. Gather the others, and tell Impmon and Lopmon that Wizardmon has returned. We have much to discuss.”

\---

The humans and Digimon sat along the innkeeper’s table, Floramon bringing them food and tea as Wizardmon told them all he knew. Finally, the Darkness had a face-- that of Myotismon, the vampire king. And Taylor was with him now.

The group sat in silence, processing what they’d learned. Even David was respectful and quiet, having no unkind words or complaints for the first time since their arrival. Darius was the one to finally break the silence.

“We have to go get her,” he stated solemnly.

“How are we supposed to do that?” Sophia asked, her voice meek and doubtful.

“We’ll figure it out,” Dominique said with quiet conviction. “We’re the Digidestined, right? This is what we’re here to do. Face the Darkness.”

“Yeah, how tough is this guy, anyway?” Harish spoke up, his tone almost jovial. “We’re pretty strong. We can take him.”

Wizardmon placed his teacup back on the table, the gentle sound of ceramic against wood enough to draw the attention of the room.

“I hope you can,” his tone was grave, his eyes closed in somber reflection as he spoke. “I have no doubt he’ll be coming for us tonight.” He opened his eyes again, training them on each Digidestiend in turn. “We should make sure we’re out of the Village by nightfall, or we’ll be putting the citizens at risk.”

“Do you think…” Darius’ voice was quiet, his tone grave. “She’ll be with him?”

Wizardmon was silent for a moment before finally responding.

“I have no doubt,” somber defeat echoed in his words. “And it’s likely you’ll have to fight her.”

“There’s no way Taylor would side with that guy,” Valentina piped up, offended by the very notion. “She wouldn’t _do_ that. Even if she felt like we’d abandoned her, there’s no way she would fight for some _evil vampire guy_.”

“Please, don’t blame her for her actions tonight,” Wizardmon explained, raising a hand to try and quell Valentina’s anger. “Myotismon is a very persuasive Digimon, she cannot be held accountable for what he forces her to do.”

“We’ll see about that,” David was quiet, angry. “She wandered off on her own, didn’t she? I can blame her for that much. She got herself into this. If she’d just stuck with us, she would’ve been _fine_.”

“David, you were the one that drove her off in the _first_ place!” Dominique rose from her chair, hands balled into fists on the table.

“Let’s not start _this_ again--” Harish rolled his eyes.

“Gather your things,” Wizardmon stood, his chair sliding back with a percussive scrape. His voice was suddenly loud, drowning out all others in the room and once again drawing the attention of everyone in the Inn. “We should get as far from the Village as possible. We’re leaving in a quarter of an hour.”

His words put an end to the argument before it began, and the Digidestined did as he said without another word, rushing upstairs.

The three Digimon-- Wizardmon, Lopmon, and Impmon-- stood in the entryway, gazing out at the forest.

“They’re not ready for this, are they?” Wizardmon observed solemnly.

“Not even close,” Impmon responded, his voice edged with frustration.

“We’ve tried,” Lopmon sounded tired as she spoke, resignation in her words. “But there’s only so much you can do. If only you’d been with us from the start, Wizardmon… maybe things could have gone the way they were supposed to.”

“The prophecies are never wrong, Lopmon,” Wizardmon reached out a comforting hand, resting it on the little Digimon’s troubled head. “As bad as things are, this must be the way they were supposed to be. They’ll work out, if we do our best.”

\---

The Digidestined and their three Digimon companions trundled through the underbrush, heading towards the dark mountains in the East. The sky turned an ominous red as the sun set behind them. The forest had grown eerie and still, not even the sound of night insects to break through the quiet apprehension that was rising in each of the humans.

Wizardmon had warned them of the castle in the cliff, and as they crested a hill, some of the Digidestined thought they could just make it out in the distance, the subtle glint of an unnatural edge giving it away.

But the glint soon disappeared, the distant mountains and surrounding wilderness swallowed up in a crushing darkness. There was no moon tonight, the only illumination that of the weakly glimmering stars.

Apprehension had turned to dread. No one dared speak, terrified that the armies of the night would descend upon them if they were to draw attention to themselves. But the armies of the night found them anyway. A lone soldier, flapping her expansive wings, drawing ever nearer to her prey.

Wizardmon stopped in his tracks as he picked up on the sound. Great gusts of wind, blowing through the leaves of the forest like an approaching storm. But there were no storm clouds in the sky above.

The sound was suddenly eclipsed by a deafening shriek, a wave of sound that shook the very earth, that uprooted trees with its power and left a deep furrow in the earth. The wanderers were blown back, tossed like ragdolls in the wake of the attack.

Ametridamon appeared now, hovering over what was once woods, and what was now a patch of destroyed earth. She landed, folding her great wings gracefully by her sides as she stood on all fours, facing the Digidestined. The metal plate that covered her eyes shimmered in the weak light, her ears rotating rapidly, taking in the sound of her quarry as they scrambled to their feet.

The Digidestined stood, Digivices at the ready, staring at what had become of their friend with fear and revulsion.

“Good god…” David let out a weak exclamation. Ametridamon, upon hearing his voice, instantly turned to face him, opening her great maw and letting loose another destructive shriek. In a split second, he’d Digivolved, surrounded by earthy light before the form of Elasmon was revealed. He stood his ground as best he could, but even his giant stony body was thrown back by the force of the soundwave. He rolled until he hit the treeline, the strong trunks of the trees splintering but holding fast against him.

The others Digivolved, Wizardmon readied his staff, and the fight began in earnest.

\---

It was nearly done now. It had been what felt like an hour, and the Digidestined, despite having but one opponent, were nearly defeated. Only Halomon, Centuriomon, and Stygiomon remained, the others forced to de-Digivolve from exhaustion, now huddled behind Wizardmon’s protective magic. They’d attempted to escape, but Ametridamon was relentless, attacking the human forms of her ex-companions at any opportunity. They’d never faced a foe quite so dead-set on her task. Forcing de-Digivolution was usually enough for an attack to end, their standard foes not interested in killing them so much as disarming, but it was clear she intended to finish what she started, at any cost to herself.

And so the three Digidestined protected their fallen comrades. But their energy was waning. They could feel their attacks losing power, could feel their bodies slowing. They would soon give out. They only hoped Ametridamon would give out first.

But Centuriomon was the next to fall. Ametridamon took her out with a great ball of black plasma, and where Centuriomon had stood, the unconscious form of Valentina now lay. Stygiomon rushed to her side before Ametridamon could go in for the kill. The dinosaurian creature swiped at Ametridamon with her bladed tail, but missed. Her aim was getting worse. It wouldn’t be much longer before she succumbed, as well.

“ ** _Taylor_ ** _,_ ” the angelic voice of Halomon cut through the air like the chiming of bells. “This isn’t right. This isn’t who you are. Remember, _please_ . _Try_.” There was desperation in his voice. He’d been trying to snap her out of it since she’d appeared, but he hadn’t gotten so much as a word out of her. There was a part of him that wondered if Myotismon had done anything to her at all, or if Taylor was finally getting the payback she felt she was owed. It didn’t seem like her, but he was starting to doubt whether he’d truly known her at all.

He still had to try and believe, though. He had to believe she was the kind soul he’d gotten to know, the soul he’d chosen to defend against those who’d been cruel to her.

But in this moment, his words did nothing. She attacked Stygiomon, biting at her viciously, and he could tell the dinosaurian warrior was on her last legs. She let loose a great blast of fire, knocking Ametridamon back. But the great bat righted herself and immediately attempted to rush back in, her fur still smoking.

Halomon flew between them. Ametridamon stopped in her tracks, something about the angel Digimon almost seeming repulsive. She cringed away from his shining form despite her blindness.

He could feel something well up inside of him as he looked into where her eyes would be. It was what he usually felt when he was readying an attack, but this was an unfamiliar sensation, something he hadn’t used before. An instinct was kicking in.

Stygiomon turned away as Halomon’s feathers brightened. They’d become painful to look at, illuminated in a way she’d never seen.

Ametridamon stood, transfixed. She took a careful step towards him, entranced by the light she could feel but not see. It was warm, but not like sunlight-- it was more like her soul was being warmed.

Halomon could see something shift in her. She was approaching him, but not to attack. Whatever he was doing, it seemed to have stopped the onslaught. 

But the spell was broken somehow, her head jerking away as if she’d heard something in the distance. She backed away, nearly tripping over herself as she spread her wings. With one great stroke, she was in the air, flying away to attend to some unknown calling.

The Digidestined were given a reprieve for the time being, and they collectively breathed a sigh of relief as the creature disappeared into the wilderness.

\---

Ametridamon landed clumsily in front of Myotismon, her wings carrying her stumbling form forward a few steps before collapsing. Myotismon knelt before her, watching her chest rise and fall with the effort of breathing, the smell of singed fur filling the air around her.

“You’ve done well,” he whispered to her, consoling the creature. He placed a delicate hand on her back, avoiding her fresh wounds, stroking her gently as if she were a horse that had just finished a race. He’d been watching as she handily took out each of the Digidestined, proud of his new weapon. But when he saw that the Spirit of Light, the spiritual foil to Ametridamon, had entranced her… Myotismon panicked, calling her back to him. He didn’t know what would have happened had Halomon been able to complete his attack, but it was best they didn’t find out. He’d have to try and make some changes to Ametridamon’s code before the next battle.

Sensing no enemies nearby, exhaustion finally caught up with the creature. She de-Digivolved. Black code enveloped her form, the meagre light seemingly sucked from the clearing as her body shrank before his eyes. The code dissipated, leaving only her small human body sprawled in its wake. She breathed heavily, but deeply, having slipped into a sort of sleep as her body gave out.

Myotismon crouched before her, taking in the damage that had been done to his warrior. Now, in place of singed fur, he could smell fresh blood. His mouth watered at the aroma. 

He gently touched her unwounded shoulder, testing to see if she would wake. The girl didn’t stir, her breaths still heavy and slow. She wouldn’t notice if he were to take a little taste. Her arms seemed to be the source of the smell, covered in small surface cuts. He removed a glove. 

Myotismon carefully ran one clawed finger along her marred flesh. It came back covered in a red film of blood. He stared at it for a moment, fresh and bright and giving off an intoxicating odor. He slowly licked the blood away, savoring every drop.

The taste was incredible. The blood he’d sampled when she first arrived had been a mix of fresh and stale, the texture tacky, though still satisfying. This was warm, thick and wet, the taste powerful and pungent, leaving behind a metallic twang on his tongue.

As he watched the already-clotting wounds leak one last bit of blood, he couldn’t help himself. He lowered his head to the girl’s arm, delicately holding it to his mouth and lapping at the wounds. The taste of her raw flesh was sharp, like licking the edge of a blade.

She groaned, and he pulled his head away quickly, his tongue attempting to clear away any evidence of his misdeeds from the edges of his mouth. But the girl didn’t stir. She was merely protesting in her sleep.

He sat for another moment, basking in her aftertaste. But he soon straightened up, facing the task at hand. It was time they returned to the castle. Her wounds had to be treated, and she needed to rest. Myotismon lifted her, carrying her over one shoulder as he rose into the air, and on the short journey back to the castle, contemplated how he could spin the truth of what he’d made her do.

\---

She could hear running water. Not like a stream or a waterfall, more like water running from a tap. A pleasant aroma wafted through the air, wet and warm and floral. She felt groggy, like she’d just woken from a deep sleep and couldn't yet tell what was real and what was a lingering remnant of her dreams.

Her eyes opened, her senses overwhelmed by the relative brightness of her surroundings. She could see again. She was Taylor, and she was staring up at a white tiled ceiling, her body propped up against a smooth, cool surface. Something was stroking her shoulder, which stung terribly.

Taylor winced at the pain, suddenly fully awake and terribly confused. The last thing she remembered was the spirit. It had enveloped her, and she’d been briefly aware of a new body, had taken in the world for a few moments through new eyes, or lack thereof. But then it had all faded away. And she woke up here.

A panic set in, and she sat forward, her body screaming in pain with the motion. Her eyes darted across the smooth porcelain, the tiled floor, the lion-headed tap with steaming water flowing from its mouth. She was in the bathroom attached to her suite, or one just like it. She was sitting in the massive tub, warm water lapping at her naked skin. As she gazed down at herself in horror, she could see fresh bruises blossoming on her legs, her arms covered in cuts and scrapes from some unknown scuffle.

“Relax,” the cajoling voice of Myotismon broke through the roar of the water. She swiveled to face him, covering herself as best she could. He knelt by the edge of the bath, watching her with his familiar but unwelcome smirk, a damp cloth held in one hand. “No need for such modesty. Most Digimon don’t even wear clothes. Come, sit back, you’ve earned your rest.”

She glared up at him, unmoving. As she tensed, she became aware of just how battered her body truly was. Her chest ached from overuse, her legs noticeably weak, not a single part of her body seeming to have escaped unscathed from whatever she’d done while dreaming. Her shoulder in particular throbbed with pain, the very air seeming to sting her flesh.

“What… what did I do?” She asked, her voice quiet but angry. “What did you _make_ me do?”

“You did your best,” Myotismon responded, his voice calm. “And I’m pleased with your performance. There’s room for improvement… but that’s a discussion for tomorrow. Now lean back and let me tend to your wounds.”

“What happened to me?” Her voice felt hoarse, her throat ragged for some unknown reason. The mystery of it all was deeply unsettling. Anything could have happened to her from the point that she Digivolved until now, and there was no hope in recovering those memories or ever knowing what truly happened.

“Those friends of yours,” he rested his terribly long forearm on the porcelain rim of the tub, reaching towards her with his other hand. “They were so _cruel_ to you.” She tried to slap it away, but her shoulder protested, a sharp stab of pain shooting through her right side as she lifted her arm.

She investigated the flesh, probing gently with one finger. The skin was raw, the topmost layer mostly peeled away, revealing the sensitive pink below. A burn. Dominique flashed in her mind, memories of their previous battles and Stygiomon’s powerful flame attacks. 

Taylor took stock of her wounds. Bruises on her hips and thighs-- they could have been from something ramming into her, possibly the giant rocky form of Elasmon. She knew David would be all too happy to cause her physical pain. The cuts on her arms-- she pictured Centuriomon’s rain of arrows, or Aquarimon’s trident tail. The raspy throat could easily have been caused by spores from Myceliamon’s special attack.

She was breathing hard, panic rising at the thought of what she might have done.

“Did I kill anyone?” She reached for the edge of the tub, grabbing at Myotismon. She took a fistful of his clothing. “Please… please just _tell me_.” When she’d opened her mouth, she intended to sound threatening. But what came out was begging. She felt completely at his mercy, her body naked and weak.

He lifted a hand to hers, completely engulfing her small human fist. He gently pressed it into his chest and looked her in the eyes, wide with distress. He tried to take on a look of concern as he carefully chose his next words.

“You didn’t kill anyone,” he answered. “Though they certainly tried to kill you. I was expecting them to hold back, since they’d been your friends, but they were brutal. Vicious. If I didn’t know any better, I’d have thought they weren’t your friends at all. Tell me… did you have any enemies among the Digidestined?” He could feel her grip on his clothing lessen. He leaned closer to her, reaching one hand to her face. She pulled away from him, and he took the hint, deciding not to push against her discomfort. He continued his questions. “Do you think… they could have tried to convince the others you weren’t _worth_ saving?”

An image of David, shouting in Dominique’s face about how useless Taylor was, immediately popped into her mind. She loosed her grip on Myotismon, and he released her hand, letting her settle back against the rounded edge of the tub, uncertainty sapping away her anger. She knew Myotismon was probably not being truthful. He had no reason to tell her what really happened, and every reason to lie. But at the same time… it did seem all too possible. 

Wizardmon had left her, after all, and had undoubtedly met up with the Digidestined by now. He would have had to explain why he didn’t bring her with him. She could imagine it’d be beneficial for him to cover up the abandonment by claiming that Taylor didn’t _want_ to leave. Adding to that the tensions that her sudden disappearance must have caused among the group, fanning the flames of David’s hatred, it was easy to envision a scenario where the majority of the Digidestined thought she’d defected of her own volition and _chosen_ to become their enemy.

She knew this was all ridiculous, probably based on lies seeded by Myotismon to confuse her and muddy the truth. But she couldn’t stop thinking that it wasn’t too far-fetched. This could be the reality she faced, one where her only remaining ally was this vampiric lord of darkness.

Myotismon raised the damp cloth to her shoulder and continued cleaning the burn, Taylor wincing as he gently wiped away the singed skin. It seemed his words were having their intended effect. The girl was lost in dark thoughts, defeated. He reached for a small bowl of salve, dipping a finger into the viscous green medicine.

“Regardless of intent,” he spoke, his voice dripping with disdain. “It was just terrible what they did to you. They knew it was you they were fighting, someone they should consider an ally… yet they fought to kill.” He applied the salve to her burn. A sharp, herbaceous scent rose from the salve as he spread it across her shoulder, mixing with the humid air, filling the room with an earthy perfume.

“I’m sure they just did what they had to do to defend themselves,” she spoke through gritted teeth. Whatever he was spreading on her wound felt like sandpaper, the flesh of her shoulder tingling in its wake as though he were driving a thousand tiny needles into her skin.

Myotismon could hear the lack of conviction in her words. She was slipping. He’d done what he could tonight, he’d let her anxious mind do the rest. He reached for a small roll of bandages, beginning the final dressings for her burn. As he lay delicate strips of cloth on her reddened, angry skin, he could see her visibly relax.

“There,” Myotismon spoke carefully, with compassion. “How does that feel?” She sighed, breathing for a moment before answering.

“Better,” she responded, her voice quiet.

\---

Myotismon lay the girl in her bed, nearly unconscious already. Before leaving her to her slumber, he quietly went through her clothing, gathered in a rumpled heap on the floor. He removed her Digivice from where it had been hidden away. He’d return it to her before she woke, there was no need for her to know it had been in his hands. But he had to make sure the next battle went smoothly. He needed to give her more power.

\---

Taylor awoke in a haze. She’d slept most of the day away, the sun hanging low on the horizon. 

She sat up, her heart a heavy weight in her chest as she remembered her conversation with Myotismon. But at the very least, she was pleased to find her body almost entirely recovered-- her limbs no longer slowed by exhaustion, her cuts having healed over faster than usual. Most surprising of all, she could barely feel the pain in her burned shoulder, the salve and bandages seeming to have reduced it to no more than a sunburn. 

As she glanced around the room, she happily realized she was alone. No Digimon poised to watch her eat the tray of food that rested at her bedside, her black Digivice delicately placed beside it, glinting in the evening sun.

Taylor’s stomach growled menacingly as she stared at the food. She reached for an apricot danish, tearing into it as she considered her options. 

If she stayed here much longer, some Digimon would come to get her, possibly Myotismon himself, and her freedom would once again be forfeit. Her eyes wandered to the Digivice, so recently imbued with power. She could Digivolve. She could become that other creature and fly away, go and find her friends on her own terms, turn against Myotismon and fulfill her destiny.

But that could prove dangerous. She wasn’t sure what had triggered her fugue state the night before, and that unknown kept her from reaching for what should have been the utter freedom and power of Digivolution. She could vaguely recall her senses fading as Myotismon spoke, and she was almost sure he’d said something that sent her into that deep dark trance. But she wasn’t _entirely_ certain. It could be the mere act of Digivolving that had done it, and if she were to do it now, she would find herself in another battle with the Digidestined no matter what.

And then there was the question of the Digidestined. She hated that it had happened, but Myotismon’s words stuck with her. They’d been fighting to kill. It was possible that, regardless of whether she maintained control of her Digimon form, they’d still see her as a traitor and a threat. She could be exiled or even killed if she tried to return. And if they accepted her back into the group, the fact that Myotismon seemed to hold some sway over her when she transformed would land her in an even worse position than she’d held before. She would still be unable to fight, forcing the group to protect her pathetic human body, because if she were to Digivolve, she could turn on them in an instant.

She thought of Darius. She wanted to believe he was the one Digidestined that wouldn’t turn on her. If she could win back the favor of any Digidestined, it would be him.

Taylor reached for her Digivice.

\---

The girl carefully checked outside her window. Of course, she saw no Digimon waiting for her there. She seemed to believe the coast was clear, and, after taking a deep breath, leapt from the window. She was briefly eclipsed by dark code, her body expanding within.

Ametridamon spread her massive wings.

She looked different this time. Myotismon had expected she might, the edits to her code warping her visage. The metal plate across her face was now jet black, thick, heavy. Her head was nearly bowed with its weight as she flew. A row of spikes had cropped up along her spine, a defensive measure he’d felt practical. And she was noticeably larger, her limbs more muscular, more powerful. There were, of course, unseen changes, as well-- special attacks, far beyond what her class should usually possess. These would make her unstable in the long run, but he could always edit those out once the threat of the Digidestined had been eliminated. Then he could focus on his true goal, and she wouldn’t need dirty little tricks like these. True power lay within both their grasps.

“ ** _Ametridamon_ ** ,” he called out to her from his vantage point on the cliff. Her ears swiveled in his direction, her flight slowing until she was hovering over the mountainside. “Finish what you started. _Destroy the Digidestined_.”

Ametridamon took off like a bolt, heeding her master’s command. He watched as she searched the woods, her ears moving wildly as she honed in on the sound of the humans trundling through the underbrush.

Taylor had done exactly as he’d hoped. He was glad he hadn’t needed to force her hand. He would be sure to watch this battle carefully, ready to step in and finish the job if need be.

\---

It took the Digidestined a long time to get moving that day. Sleep had come easily enough once they were certain there would be no further attacks, each of them thoroughly exhausted and beaten, their ears still ringing from the shrieking of the terrible bat. But the next day found them worn, defeated, their spirits low.

There were no arguments in the morning, the group finally in agreement over what had to be done. Though friction would undoubtedly arise once it was time to formulate a more solid plan, everyone was too exhausted to worry about it for the time being. They collectively set their sights on the castle, nestled in a dark cliffside on the far horizon. Their one task was to get there as quickly as possible.

Wizardmon and Javier led the pack. Over the scant day and a half they’d known each other, the two seemed to connect, some deep similarity of spirit drawing the two together despite the long stretches of silence between them.

Lopmon had also been silent, unusually so, even for the thoughtful little rabbit-like creature. As the group made their way East, she sat atop Sophia’s shoulders, a look of worry knitting her tiny brow. Her hope had been slipping for some time now, the constant bickering of the Digidestined and the troublesome missing Digital Spirit wearing her down. It had taken a sharp dive when Taylor went missing, and had barely recovered before Ametridamon’s attack the night prior. Now she felt a crushing emptiness inside of her, threatening to spread through her whole body if she let it. Things were not going the way they were supposed to. She worried for the Digidestined, and for the Digital World.

Impmon, a creature who chose to live in the moment, had no such qualms. Though he was similarly devoted to the cause, he believed Wizardmon was correct, and that everything would work out in its own way. So long as the eight Digidestined lived, the world would not descend into utter Darkness. He found himself almost in high spirits, bursting with energy at the thought of more battles to come, though the last had been harrowing. He only wished he could fight alongside them.

The day wore on, and the Digidestined made very little progress. Morale was low. They stopped to eat when the sun was at its peak, unpacking small boxes of appetizing food given to them by the innkeeper Floramon, one last kindness she’d extended before they left and made room for paying customers. 

Harish tried to start a conversation over lunch, uncomfortable with the silence. But he found there was nothing much to be said. Everyone was anxious, lost in their own thoughts, stealing glances up at the mountain like rabbits watching the sky for hawks.

The sun continued its journey across the sky, and they continued theirs. They’d reached the foothills when the sky was turning red, and had just crested a hill when they saw it.

Sophia gasped. 

Javier’s jaw tightened. 

Harish’s legs felt weak, shaking beneath him. 

Anger flared in David’s chest. 

Valentina felt a pang of sorrow for what had become of her friend. 

Dominique clenched her fist, other hand clutching her red Digivice in a vice grip.

Darius’ heart ached.

The silhouette of a giant batwinged Digimon grew ever-larger as it flapped towards them.

\---

Ametridamon came-to, a metallic clanking echoing in her mind, the sound seeming to pull her from a fog.

In front of her, she could see a large piece of metal, rolling back and forth on the ground as if it had just been dropped. Bright light glinted off its surface, and she squinted, her eyes weak. She tried to cover her face with her wing, but the light still shone through.

“Taylor,” a familiar voice called out to her, the sound of chiming bells filling the air as the word was spoken. She knew that word… someone she knew, maybe? “ _Taylor_. Can you hear me?”

The voice was comforting, yet filled her with sorrow for some reason. She lowered her wing, still squinting as she took in the shining feathers of the figure before her. He was as bright as the sun, feathery wings encircling his form like rays of light. He clutched a massive gold ring in his talons. It reflected the light from his body, creating a halo of light on the ground where she stood. Halomon, she remembered. This was Halomon.

As her eyes adjusted, she could see more figures behind the radiant bird. A multi-horned faceplate on a dinosaurian face, a six-limbed warrior with insectine eyes, and behind them, the huddled shapes of three humanoids.

In the back of her mind, something nagged at her. Something about the number of figures seemed wrong.

She was wrenched from her confused thoughts by the impact of something heavy and hard colliding with her side. She was knocked several yards away, rolling along the ground for some distance before she could right herself. Her left side ached, her bones creaking and grinding as she tried to lift herself back up onto all fours. The stone-faced rhino dug his front hoof into the ground, scraping up the earth as he readied another attack.

“Now’s our chance!” The rhino, Elasmon, called to the others. “ _Take her out!_ ”

“ ** _Ametridamon_ ** ,” a deep voice boomed over the clearing. This name was more familiar. _She_ was Ametridamon. It was _her_ name. “Stand down. I’ll take it from here.”

The figure of a man descended from the sky just as Elasmon charged at the great bat. The rhinocerine Digimon found himself hurled into the air, thrown back by a powerful sweep of the figure’s long arms.

Myotismon had come for her. She was relieved. Though she’d felt some glimmer of hope when looking up into Halomon, some forgotten feeling welling up inside of her, not quite able to rise to the surface, it had all been shattered when the battle resumed. Now all she felt was fear and confusion.

Myotismon lifted his arms, dark energy swirling in the space above his head, coalescing into a massive, threatening orb. 

A small figure darted out from behind Halomon, lifting a sun-tipped staff towards the vampiric Digimon. Again, that tickle of familiarity at the back of her mind, this time tinged with anxiety.

“ _Run_ ,” Wizardmon bellowed to the other Digimon. “Get out of here, I’ll hold him off!”

Though his words had not been directed at her, Ametridamon heeded them anyway. She spread her wings, one of them still aching from the impact of Elasmon’s stone head. She lifted from the ground, flying off towards the familiar cliffside that for some reason felt like safety.

Wizardmon watched as the confused Digimon flew off. His heart still ached from his failure, from abandoning her to this fate. It had been difficult to see how changed she was from their last battle. It looked almost painful.

He would not fail again. Or at the very least, he would give this last battle his all, and do everything he could to protect the remaining Digidestined. He would just have to hope that his sacrifice would be enough. He raised his staff, a dark cloud swirling in the sky above, growing larger with each passing second.

Myotismon chuckled cruelly, his voice echoing across the clearing. Bombardiermon quickly ushered his human companions back into the safety of the forest, but Stygiomon, Halomon, and Elasmon still stood firmly in place.

“Get _out_ of here!” Wizardmon called to them.

“We’re not leaving you,” Stygiomon answered, finality in her voice.

“We won’t let some costumed weirdo push us around!” Elasmon thundered.

“ _He has to pay for what he did to her_ ,” Halomon chimed.

Wizardmon could see that Myotismon’s attack was reaching its completion. It was now or never. He lowered his staff, pointing it at the evil Digimon. A massive bolt of lightning, multi-pronged and powerful, struck him from the cloud above, flowing through his body, striking Myotismon squarely in the chest. 

Myotismon was knocked back a few inches, but the smile never faded from his lips, his attack uninterrupted. Wizardmon’s most powerful attack was a mere annoyance. Wizardmon fell to the ground, his power spent, Myotismon’s mocking laughter filling his ears.

“ _Wizardmon!_ ” Bombaridermon called out, still hovering at the edge of the woods as he ensured the safety of those who had already been forced to de-Digivolve.

“Don’t worry, you’ll join him soon,” Myotismon chuckled, the massive ball of dark energy still growing between his hands.

“Get them _out_ of here, Bombardiermon!” Stygiomon called back to him. He took one last look at the gathering darkness over Myotismon’s head, and turned to his weakened companions, gripping them in his many arms and leaping as far from the incoming impact as he could.

“My turn, Wizardmon,” Myotismon smirked, and lowered his arms, releasing his attack. 

The world was black for a moment-- silent and dark. The Digimon before him were swallowed up in an instant, their screams silenced by the void.

When it faded, the clearing had been widened, dozens of trees scattered and destroyed in the wake of the silent explosion. And in the center of the impact, only three human figures remained, motionless. 

Wizardmon was no more.

He approached the humans, taking his time. One of them, a boy with cropped hair and dark skin, had begun to stir, propping himself up on his elbows. The others seemed to be alive, but continued to lie motionless on the ruined earth.

“I could kill you now, you know,” the boy started as Myotismon spoke. He stared up at the Digimon with wide eyes. Myotismon grinned cruelly, placing a massive boot on the human’s chest, pushing him back down to the ground. “I could crush you into the earth. It would be terribly easy.”

“Wh-what did you do to Taylor…” the boy spluttered.

“Very little,” he responded. “I treated her well, and gave her incredible power. As you’ve now witnessed.” He put a little more weight on the boy. “She’s happy with me. Why else do you think she returned so readily to the castle?"

“You’re… lying…” Darius refused to let the words infiltrate his perception of Taylor. He knew this Digimon was a liar, that he would revel in tearing the Digidestined apart by any means necessary, including tearing apart their friendships.

As he toyed with the boy, Myotismon considered his next steps. The other Digidestined had run off, one still Digivolved, two other Digimon companions in tow. While he could kill these three now, he’d still have to run after the others. And it was possible they could Digivolve again, while he’d already used up a large amount of energy taking down his four opponents.

But even if he were at full strength, if he killed these three, there was no telling what Taylor would do, or how she would feel. Though it was not likely to gain him any favor in her eyes.

It was time for plan B. He’d made sure to have a fallback, in case the Digidestined proved difficult to dispatch. It was risky, but no plan was without its risks. At least with plan B, he’d be able to convince Taylor she’d been further abandoned, and wouldn’t have to deal with any messy negative feelings regarding death or murder.

“If you don’t believe me,” Myotismon lifted his boot from the boy’s chest, freeing his lungs. He coughed pathetically. “Why don’t you and all your little friends come by the castle tomorrow night? Taylor can tell you herself.” He took a step back from the three humans. The other two had stirred at last, rolling onto their sides, eyeing Myotismon with pure hatred.

“I _knew_ she was a traitor…” the pale, stocky man spat.

“How do we know it’s not a trap?” The dark-skinned woman asked.

“Of course it’s a trap,” Myotismon responded, smirking, revealing one glistening fang. “But what other choice do you have? You need all eight Digidestined, don’t you?”

The humans were silent. Myotismon bowed deeply, mockingly.

“I’ll see you all tomorrow evening.”

He departed, leaving the humans to pick themselves up and contemplate their next moves.

\---

By the time he found Taylor, she’d de-Digivolved, her small human form curled up on the very top of the cliff. She stared down at the valley below, down at the ruined places where she’d now battled the Digidestined twice.

Myotismon alighted on the cliffside, standing a comfortable distance away, not wanting to crowd her too quickly. He wasn’t sure what sort of thoughts would be running through her head. It was clear she’d broken from his trance while still Digivolved, the accursed holy light of Halomon cracking through what he’d thought to be foolproof additions to her code. This was sure to be a critical turning point for Taylor, and he had to make sure he came out on top.

“They’ll be coming tomorrow night,” he said after some time. “To finish the job.”

Taylor seemed lost in thought, not even turning to face him as he spoke. His words hung in the air, unacknowledged. 

“You let them live?” She asked, finally.

“I did,” Myotismon responded, joining the girl in gazing out at the partially ruined forest. “Though they hurt you, I let them live.”

There was again silence. Taylor didn’t know how to feel. So instead, she was feeling nothing. But every time Myotismon spoke, she couldn’t help but feel… safe. Like something deep inside of her was starting to trust the Digimon. It was sickening, but she couldn’t stop. She was so desperate to feel that safety, her mind was clinging to it like a life preserver.

It didn’t help that her once-friends were slowly warping in her mind. Where once, she’d felt something like a bond with some of them, now those memories were fading, replaced by worry and fear. Some of her former acquaintances were feeling more and more like enemies. It was like the very fabric of her being was shifting subtly underneath her, so subtly that she barely noticed. 

‘Finish the job’... had the Digidestined said that? Or had Myotismon put those words in their mouths? Did it really matter, if their intent was the same? And after what Elasmon had done, she doubted that they’d hold back in a fight. They would attack and attack until she either de-Digivolved or died, whichever came first. Even Darius had been attacking her, in his own way. Light was the enemy of darkness, after all. Their very essences opposed one another.

Myotismon, however, was another creature of darkness. Perhaps he simply understood her better than the Digidestined ever would. As much as she resisted the thought, she was starting to believe he could truly be helping her, that it was possible he really had her best interests at heart.

The Digimon shifted towards her, watching carefully to see how she reacted. She continued staring, not even tensing as he sat next to her.

“How do you feel?” Myotismon asked, genuinely curious.

“I…” Taylor’s voice trailed off. “I don’t know. I’m trying not to feel anything.” She gave an honest answer.

Against her better judgement, in a moment of great weakness, she leaned towards the Digimon. She rested her head against him, his clothes a pleasant linen that smelled oddly of ozone.

Myotismon was surprised, but inwardly pleased. It was starting to pay off. He lifted his massive hand, placing it delicately on her arm, pressing her to him gently.

Taylor closed her eyes. She was overwhelmed with that feeling of safety, and a calm descended on her weary spirit. They sat like this for some time, Myotismon casually stroking her hair with two gloved fingers. 

He was elated. The smell of her was intoxicating, reminding him of those precious tastes of her blood he’d snuck the night before. Her smell filled his thoughts with images of biting, of blood-red tongues and gaping wounds, of her face, rapt with pleasure as he drank from her. But these were unrealistic, just dreams that could never come to fruition so long as he kept his main goal in mind. Imagining the end result of this goal gave him the same elated feeling, the same pleasurable sense of yearning in his chest. He imagined what they would look like when they were finally joined. What their horrific visage would be when they’d finally fused into a creature of unknowable power.

In his quest for complete mastery of the Digital World, he’d come across information on fusion. But the information was scant and mysterious, describing a process not fully understood by Digimon who had no partners and only spoken of in vagaries by those who did. It seemed to be a way to grant oneself incredible ability, power unmatched by any lone Digimon. Fusions could be between Digimon, between Digimon and their partners, and even between Digital Spirits like those possessed by the current Digidestined. Legend had it that a fusion between all the ancient Digital Spirits had been able to single-handedly take down a god. Myotismon yearned for that power. 

While he’d initially attempted to gain control of all the spirits, he’d quickly realized this could be unwieldy, difficult to control. Choosing just one or two would be ideal, especially if the spirit in question could easily fall to his desires. Darkness was the best candidate. 

And here she was, leaning on him in her time of emotional distress, giving into him already. She would be all he needed.

And so he pet her hair, he held her close, he made her feel safe. He would do whatever it took to gain her trust, to gain her love. And ultimately, she would fuse with him, and they would rule this pathetic world as one unstoppable creature of darkness.

\---

Taylor opened her eyes, heavy with sleep. Though she hadn’t been here long, she was getting tired of waking up in this strange room, confused and aching. The sun was most of the way across the sky, the golden hour already descending upon the mountains. It seemed she was slowly slipping into a nocturnal lifestyle.

There had been another tray of food left for her, but she was too nauseous with anxiety to eat. It sat ignored on the bedside table as she stood by the window, gazing out at the reddening sky, heart heavy with dread.

A knock startled her from her troubled thoughts.

“ _I’m coming in_ ,” a gruff, annoyed voice called to her. The door opened, Demidevimon poking his massive head around its edge. “The Master would like you to come to dinner with him. I’m supposed to get you. So, you ready to go?”

She stood for a moment, heart racing at the idea of seeing him again. The feeling confused and worried her, but it raced nonetheless.

“So? _Are_ you?” Demidevimon was impatient as always, hovering by the door with a look of frustration.

“Yeah, yeah, just give me a second,” she answered brusquely. She looked down at the clothes she’d slept in. Linen pants and a lavender button-up, dirtied by the previous night’s activities. She rushed to the wardrobe. There were only three outfits remaining, two of them dresses. The red one was right out. But the black one… surely, that would be fitting for the evening before what might be her third and final battle. Her funeral dress.

She slipped behind a privacy screen, away from the judgemental eyes of Demidevimon, and quickly removed the old clothes, still damp with sweat from her fitful sleep. She pulled the black dress over her head, the fabric sliding into place with ease. There was a full-length mirror propped against one wall, showing her how the dress hugged her waist, the way the low-cut neckline bared her shoulders, the elegance of its sweeping train. It was sleek. And, she thought to herself, not unlike something a walking corpse would wear. Fitting for an evening with a vampire.

Taylor was delighted to find that the dress had pockets, and made sure to stow her Digivice safely at her hip.

“Okay,” she emerged from behind the screen, the brief distraction of playing dress-up enough to reset her mood for the time being. Worries about the Digidestined were pushed from her mind, left in the crumpled heap of clothes behind the privacy screen. She was the Taylor of the present, and would try not to think of the past or the future until they came to meet her. She took a deep breath, calming her nerves, and turned to Demidevimon. “Let’s go.”

He led her down the halls, speeding ahead nearly faster than she could follow, clearly eager to be rid of her quickly. Soon, she could practically smell her way to the dining room, the tantalizing aroma of food wafting through the drafty corridors.

The dining hall stood vast and empty, somehow even more lifeless than it had been on her first evening in the castle, Myotismon’s not insignificant form dwarfed by its cavernous walls. The sight of him gave her a strange nervous feeling, like something was pressing on her lungs, not allowing her to breath. He stood as she entered, and bowed to her. She waved in response, not wanting to seem impolite.

“I bid thee farewell, madame,” Demidevimon’s tone had shifted from annoyance to respect, putting on a show of his manners for Myotismon. Taylor had to suppress a laugh upon hearing him call her ‘madame’. It sounded so comical coming from the rude little Digimon.

As he flapped back down the dark hallway, Taylor made her way to the table. She tried not to look at the Digimon as she approached her seat by his side. But her heart fluttered madly regardless, not allowing her to forget the strange, confusing, unwanted feelings that had begun to stir within her. Though she still feared him, still hated him in some ways, she couldn’t help but feel like he was becoming a sort of companion. She thought back to her actions the night before, regretting her weakness and what it had made her do. Her resolve against the Digimon had been cracking, and she’d practically shouted it to the heavens by leaning against him, touching him like he was a friend, or worse. 

It was one thing to have these feelings. It was another to let those feelings be known. Now he knew, and as her eyes finally rose to meet his, she could see it. That victorious look.

Myotismon carefully watched her movements as she approached, nervous, like a deer making its way carefully across a clearing. Though he would have loved to see her wear the red dress, the black suited her well. The way it hung low around her shoulders, baring her tantalizing flesh, nearly made his mouth water. But he buried his temptations. There would be time for that once she was his. 

He sat when she did, his eyes never leaving her.

“I’m pleased to see you chose one of the dresses this evening…” He smiled at her as he spoke, his eyes traveling across her body as he spoke. She could practically feel them on her skin.

“I was running out of clothes,” she answered, avoiding his gaze.

“Then we’ll have new clothes made. I want you to feel at home here, after all.” He touched the pointed hem of her sleeve, holding it between two fingers as he pretended to admire the fabric. A shiver ran up her arm.

Taylor had been trying not to think of her future beyond this night. It was possible she wouldn’t have a future, so she’d decided it was best not to get too caught up in some fantasy of living to see dawn. In all the stress, she’d somehow failed to realize what it would mean if she survived. It was still possible that the Digidestined would save her and she could resume her life as a somewhat normal human. It was a comforting thought, that everything she’d gone through would suddenly cease to affect her, that she could just be free from all of this and go back to living in her mom’s house, drawing people’s pets for less than minimum wage. 

But there was also the possibility that the Digidestined would be finished. It was a possibility she hadn’t fully considered until this moment, that she would be left fully, completely alone with Myotismon. The room in this castle would be _her_ room. The mysterious halls would become a sort of home. As much as her feelings toward Myotismon had shifted, the thought still left her feeling cold. All she could think about was her bed back home, surrounded by garbage, familiar and warm.

“A toast,” Myotismon raised his cup. “For luck.” Taylor reached for her goblet, the wine already poured and waiting for her. She raised it to meet Myotismon’s, and they both drank. She felt no hesitation this time. Something to take the edge off felt like exactly what she needed.

“You seem troubled,” Myotismon observed, head resting in his hand. He smiled down at her as he spoke. “But you don’t need to be.”

“Why not? Seven powerful Digimon are coming to attack us tonight. I have every right to be troubled.” She took another sip of the wine. It had a distinctly herbal flavor, reminding her of spiced wine her mother would brew when the nights grew cold.

“I promise, you won’t have to so much as see them tonight. You won’t need to do any fighting at all. So relax, enjoy yourself.” Myotismon watched her take another drink. He was pleased she’d put aside any suspicions about what was served to her. While she’d seemed overly cautious about the wine her first night here, it had been poured straight from the bottle, nothing added. It was this evening’s wine he’d tampered with. 

He’d merely added something to help her forget her worries for the time being. The last thing he wanted was for her to get involved. She was still in too precarious a position, she would be too easily swayed if any of the Digidestined were to try and speak with her, especially considering what he’d seen from the Spirit of Light. She had to be kept away from him at all costs. He would make sure she was back in her room, asleep if possible, before the Digidestined arrived.

Taylor didn’t know how to respond. She was confused, but as horrible as it was to admit to herself, relieved. She vaguely remembered snapping out of her trance while Digivolved, the cold feeling of being seen as an enemy by those she once called friends.

A Bakemon floated into the room, interrupting the niceties with two small plates of food and an announcement of the evening’s menu.

\---

Taylor lost track of time. She’d only had one glass of wine, but felt as if she’d had a whole bottle. Though she knew it was most likely her exhaustion getting the best of her, it was still embarrassing. She tried to hold it together as best she could. But she found herself slurring her words and laughing a little too energetically as the evening wore on.

Myotismon watched with amusement as she became more and more intoxicated. He figured she was past the point of memory, her goblet long since emptied, her mood shifting from nervous and reserved to almost jovial. He allowed the conversation to shift into a more personal discussion, asking probing questions while Taylor’s guard was down, and sharing some of his own secrets in turn. Or, at least, heavily edited versions of his secrets.

They’d talked for some time about Taylor’s life as a human, about her mother. The concept of parents was utterly foreign to Myotismon, and he found it intriguing, in the same way one is intrigued about the inner workings of an anthill. The biological aspect was baffling, and Taylor had explained as best she could how it worked, Myotismon nodding but clearly not quite grasping the concepts. He’d then tried to explain the process of death and Digi-eggs, and Taylor nodded, but he could see her eyes glazing over as he spoke, her addled mind unable to process the complexities of Digital reincarnation. Her insistence that she was absolutely understanding what he was saying, while slurring every other word, brought a small smile to his lips.

It was the emotional aspect of a family that Myotismon struggled with. The biology, he could write off as largely unimportant. But if he was going to become, essentially, Taylor’s partner, he would have to be able to grasp the importance of human emotions, at least until he’d gotten what he wanted out of her. He let her talk for some time about her mother. At one point, tears welled up in her eyes, let free by the wine. He gently reached out to her, and she let him touch her face, wiping away the tears. She leaned into him, closing her eyes, her head resting in his palm as she allowed him to console her. A wide grin stretched across his face.

It felt as if the time was right for him to share his secret. He’d already begun seeding the concept in her mind by leaving the book in her room, relevant pages marked. He’d noticed it had moved on the shelf, and knew she’d seen it. He knew she wouldn’t remember what he was about to tell her, but the idea would remain, lingering in her subconscious, readying her for their future.

“Now, wait…” she held up a hand as she spoke. “You want to… _what_ with me?”

“Fuse,” Myotismon raised his goblet to his lips. “I want to fuse with you.”

“What, like,” Taylor closed her eyes in confusion, fireworks seeming to go off behind her eyelids. She opened them quickly before she became too dizzy to sit up straight. “Into one… thing? How would that even work?”

“We’ll find out, I suppose,” he responded, lowering his goblet back to the table. He looked into her eyes. “We’ll have all the time we need to figure it out.” Taylor stared off into the distance, a small frown creeping in at the corners of her lips.

“I don’t want to stay here,” she finally spoke, her voice quiet. “I miss my mom. I just… I just want to go home.”

Myotismon touched her hand gently. She started at his touch, but didn’t flinch away.

“Taylor,” she looked up at him as he spoke, her eyes wide and unfocused. “Are you feeling all right? You look tired. I can have Demidevimon escort you back to your room…”

“I’m fine,” she answered, enunciating carefully. “I sleep too much, I don’t need more sleep.”

“You’ve had an exhausting week, haven’t you? An exhausting month, even. You’ve earned your rest.” He reached out and touched her face with one long, clawed finger. He stroked her cheek, and he could tell she nearly melted at his touch. She closed her eyes, seeming to momentarily forget her worries about the future, merely existing in this moment with him.

“My,” he whispered. “You’ve really let your guard down, haven’t you? I wonder…” he slid his thumb up the side of her face, gripping it in his hand and turning her to look at him. “... what you’d let me get away with right now.”

He shifted towards her, leaning his face down to hers, still held steady.

“Wh-what are you doing?” She asked, Myotismon looming before her, his face dangerously close to hers.

“Shh,” his voice was soft as he shushed her. She didn’t know how to respond. With each passing second, she felt herself slipping away into some barely-conscious state, unable to fully grasp what was going on or how she fit into the world. The sudden sound of pounding filled her head, of some distant explosion or maybe someone knocking on a door. Maybe both. She thought it must be the sound of her heart beating, terribly loud and thunderous as Myotismon’s face lowered to her neck.

But Myotismon seemed to hear it, too, his face moving away from her bare shoulder, his eyes staring off towards the distant sound.

“Master Myotismon, they’re here!” A Bakemon floated, frantic, into the room. “They’ve already broken through the gate.”

“ _Damn_ ,” Myotismon cursed, his face twisting with frustration as he released Taylor from his grasp. Her head swam as she steadied herself against the table. She blinked, trying to clear her head. Something important was happening now, she had to sober up as best she could. Myotismon’s voiced boomed across the empty dining hall, echoing in Taylor’s ears. “Take her to her room. Make _sure_ she gets there.”

“No, no,” Taylor stood, stumbling, grabbing at the table with one hand to keep from falling to the ground. She remembered how anxious she’d been all day, and knew there was something she was supposed to help with or… something. “I can help. I can Digivolve and--” she reached for her Digivice. It wasn’t there. Her head cleared slightly as panic fluttered in her chest, remembering that this was something she absolutely couldn’t lose.

“Don’t worry, girl,” Myotismon cajoled her, placing a hand on her back to steady her steps as he guided her towards the waiting Bakemon. She walked a few paces before stopping in her tracks, bracing against his hand. 

“ ** _No_ ** , I _need_ to find my Digivice.” She shoved his hand away.

He sighed, and as she glared up at him, reached for one of his pockets. He unbuttoned it. From within, he produced the familiar black shape of her Digivice.

Anger flared in her chest. Seeing it in his hands, knowing what it meant, knowing that he had taken the last ounce of control she had over her own body, sobered her slightly. That Digivice belonged to _her._ If he felt he could simply take it from her if he saw fit… it felt like he was sending a message. That they weren’t equals. That she was _owned_.

“I’m keeping it safe tonight. Wouldn’t want you running off to battle in this state, now would we?” He pat her head, like she was a dog. “Go on and sleep. Everything will be solved by the morning, I promise.”

“Give it _back_ ,” her voice was low, serious. But she was still having trouble enunciating, her words flowing together and betraying her inebriation.

He merely chuckled in response. She wouldn’t remember his words, anyway. All would be forgotten by the morning. He turned from her, several wide strides carrying him away into the darkness of the hallways. He’d ordered all the candles be blown out, and the hallways were pitch black, only his night-sensitive eyes able to see their twists and turns. It had been cute to see her so helpless, her small human form barely able to stand under the influence of the draught he’d given her. Even her anger was adorable, like a small animal attempting to start fights it couldn’t possibly win. He’d have to try this again some other time, when he had less urgent matters to attend to and could devote a whole evening to teasing the girl.

Taylor rubbed her eyes, some of the intoxication seeming to have worn off with the sudden rush of adrenaline. She still felt dizzy, but she at least remembered what she was doing here and what Myotismon had run off to deal with. This didn’t feel like drunkenness. Even as tired as she was, a single glass of wine couldn’t have this effect. She remembered the strange, unexpected herbal taste, and shuddered. He’d drugged her. She’d somehow, in the midst of the conflict, allowed herself to be taken in by his lies, taken in by his sweet words, taken in by his insistence that she was all alone in this world. It had been easy enough to believe. But it had been a mistake to give in so readily to the darkness, to lose hope so easily.

She had to retrieve her Digivice. She had to find the Digidestined. She had to do what she could to free herself from Myotismon’s control, before it truly was too late for her.

The Bakemon approached her, clearly under the impression that she would go quietly.

“Come along, madame, let’s get you to bed…” it spoke with its ghostly voice as it motioned towards the hall. She reeled back and punched it in between the eyes. It staggered, stunned, and she took the opportunity to run.

\---

The Digidestined and their two remaining Digimon companions finally arrived at the black castle. The door had been easy enough to smash through, Elasmon doing most of the heavy lifting.

They’d expected a fight to break out as soon as they made their presence known, but instead found themselves standing in a silent entryway, surrounded on all sides by pitch-black passageways, silent as the grave. Some of the humans hadn’t even Digivolved, not convinced it was necessary quite yet.

“Are we… sure this is the right castle?” Harish’s voice broke the silence.

“Geez, it’s dark in here,” Stygiomon growled. She spat a fireball at one of the candelabras in the entryway, but rather than lighting any candles, she only managed to burn them all to puddles of candlewax and molten metal.

Darius took the initiative, quickly transforming into the shining Halomon.

“This should help,” he spoke, his voice chiming like churchbells, echoing in the empty castle.

They collectively took a few nervous steps into the room, each glancing down a passage to try and catch movement, or hear a voice, or pick up on anything that might lead them to their quarry.

“There!” Sophia shouted, motioning towards the end of a dark hallway. Halomon illuminated the swish of a red and black cape as it disappeared around a corner. A cruel laugh could be heard emanating from the corridor beyond, confirmation that Myotismon was within reach.

The Digidestined ran after the cape. As they rounded the corner, they could see another flash as Myotismon disappeared down the next hallway, and as they reached the end of _that_ hallway, they could just make out his face, a wry smile mocking them as he took yet another turn.

“ _He’s just leading us in circles!_ ” Elasmon bellowed. “We should just start _smashing_.” He emphasized his last word with a swing of his great head, colliding with one of the stone walls. Rather than the sound of cracking masonry, there was a great clap of stone on stone. The impact was enough to send him stumbling back, his massive body ramming into the opposite wall to similar effect. The only damage he’d been able to inflict was a small scuff, which could easily be rubbed out of the smooth, shining wall.

“Now, now,” Myotismon’s voice boomed through the hallways, seemingly coming from everywhere at once. “It would be terribly rude of you to destroy my castle any further. I don’t recommend it. These walls are carved from pure black moissanite, you’ll beat yourself to dust before you so much as put a dent in them.”

The Digidestined stood for a moment, stunned and horrified at the sound of their enemy’s voice. But this feeling was almost instantly replaced with grim determination.

They hurried after the fleeing shape of Myotismon, continuing down the winding passageways.

\---

Though she’d been able to shake herself from her stupor, Taylor was definitely still intoxicated. The walls around her seemed to warp and spin as she ran. But her footing was true, and she felt like she was moving at a good enough pace that the Bakemon wouldn’t catch up to her any time soon. 

Though the halls were dark, the candles snuffed out, she could still see, as if there were weak moonlight reflecting from the walls. The only issue was she wasn’t sure where she was supposed to go. She knew she had to catch up to Myotismon, but he’d seemingly evaporated into the walls as soon as she chased after him.

It was then that she heard a loud impact, something large stumbling. She could feel the vibrations shake the floor as it landed. Whatever it was, it wasn’t far off. And then came Myotismon’s voice, echoing down the hallways. His cruel laughter made her stomach twist into knots. 

She raced after it.

\---

It didn’t take long for the Digidestined to stumble into Myotismon’s little trap. He hadn’t given them much of a choice. After all, they were destined to defeat him, so they would all have to come face-to-face eventually, one way or another. Unfortunately for them, they were nowhere near ready for what he had planned. This would undoubtedly be an anticlimactic final battle.

He’d heard the prophecy long ago, when he was still a Devimon. The Digidestined would one day come to stop his reign of terror. No matter what he did, or how much power he amassed, they would somehow stop him. Since that day, alongside his research into how to become the all-powerful ruler of the Digital World, he’d made sure he would have a plan in place to take out the Digidestined before they could fulfill their destiny. 

Killing them was always an option, but couldn’t be relied upon. In the Digital World, where a soul could live on in fractured code, it was too unpredictable. However, if he were to simply send them back where they came from, he would be rid of them for at least a good while. He knew more time passed in the Digital World than in the human realm. In the time it took them to return, he could be months ahead of them, perhaps years. It was possible they would never figure out how to return and finish the job.

And so he had amassed as much knowledge on the bridge between worlds as possible. He’d already painted the glyphs, already prepared the necessary code. The portal now swirled in the center of the room, giving off a bright blue light as it reflected the sky of the human world. A city could be seen, upside-down, its skyscrapers glinting in the mid-day sun. Now all he would have to do was force them through.

They stumbled into the cavern, disoriented by the sudden bright light. They glanced around the massive room, unable to see Myotismon as he hid from view. But they could see the portal. They could see their city, the daylight of their sun filtering into the room, igniting the homesickness they’d all tried to bury.

“Is that…” Harish took a step forward.

“It’s home.” Sophia finished his dangling sentence. There was a mixture of longing and apprehension in her eyes as she spoke.

“Clearly the way back has opened up for us,” Elasmon joined the others, taking slow steps toward the light of the portal. “We don’t have to finish this quest to leave. We can just _go_ , _right now_.”

“Wait, _stop_ \--” Bombardiermon reached out a hand to stop Elasmon. But the stone-faced Digimon wrenched away, taking a few more steps forward and glaring back at his beetle-faced companion.

“I’m leaving and _none_ of you can stop me,” Elasmon charged forward. The others tried to catch up, to pull him back. Even the humans, Sophia grabbing onto his club tail and digging in her heels. But she was lifted off her feet with one powerful swing of his tail, and he leapt into the portal, Sophia still latched on. “ _Good luck!_ ” was all he shouted back as his body spun away, back to Earth, Sophia staring back at her teammates in horror as she realized her mistake, her final words a distant “I’m sorry” echoing through the portal as if through water.

They were gone.

“N-no…” Lopmon’s voice was quiet, but the hurt, the heartbreak, the defeat was clear in her words.

“That _idiot_!” Impmon exclaimed, anger rising up in place of fear.

Myotismon couldn’t help but laugh. The sound filled the room, leaving the Digidestined unable to pinpoint where he was. They raised their eyes to the ceiling, but he remained just out of view, evading their searching eyes. Centuriomon shot an arrow where she thought the laughter may have come from, but it merely ricocheted off a wall, clattering to the ground. She beat her hooves on the ground in frustration, pounding uselessly against the black stone. Stygiomon shot a ball of fire into the air, but it simply rose through the cavern and out into the night sky, fizzling to nothing without revealing their hidden nemesis.

“That leaves only _five_ of you. You might as well give up now, Digidestined. Return to Earth. You have no hope of stopping me, just go back to your lives and forget about the Digital World.”

“Show yourself, coward!” Stygiomon’s howl shook the room, the sound reverberating off the walls.

“Where is Taylor?” Halomon shouted. “You said she’d _be_ here.”

“Guys…” Harish turned to them, silhouetted by the light of the portal. His face was serious, uncharacteristic of the usually jovial young man. “We don’t have to do this. That guy is gonna _kill_ us, do you get that? It’s not just a _game_.”

“Harish,” Lopmon stepped forward. “Please don’t do this. We need you. The Digital World _needs_ you.”

“David, I can understand. But you?” Bombardiermon glared down at him. “You’re better than this. Digivolve, and stand with us.”

“I don’t think so. It was nice knowing you, Javier. You were a chill dude,” Harish took another step toward the portal, turning away from his companions.

“You can’t do this to us, man! Think of all the good times we had, huh?” Impmon leapt forward, reaching out for Harish. But he was too late. He’d already leapt foward, his body spinning away, back to Earth.

“That _coward_!” Centuriomon reared up, anger radiating off of her.

“Ah, how refreshing that your ranks were so easily thinned,” Myotismon finally appeared. He stood behind them, smirking cockily at the four remaining Digidestined. “I must commend your cowardly compatriots. They’ve made this much easier for me.”

\---

Taylor finally caught up with what she’d been chasing. She recognized this place as the hidden passage where Myotismon had kept her spirit, once blindingly dark, now blindingly illuminated. As she shielded her eyes, she saw the source of the light-- a glowing portal, blue sky and daylight deep within. Not just daylight, she saw, but a city. Upside-down, but still recognizable. It was home.

The spinning of the portal caused another swell of dizziness, feeling as if she were already falling into the swirling depths. She stumbled as she walked, quietly steadying herself against one wall as she continued forward.

Before her was the silhouetted figure of Myotismon, and just beyond him, four of the Digidestined, Lopmon and Impmon cowering behind them. The others were nowhere in sight. Despite her addled state, she knew what must have already happened, and could guess what Myotismon was about to do. He had to be stopped. The others were already at a disadvantage, their ranks thinned, a powerful Digimon now holding them precariously on the edge of a portal that threatened to end their mission prematurely. But Taylor, for once, had an advantage.

It was all suddenly very clear to her. The effects of the wine were still plaguing her mind, but she understood now how the Digidestined were to defeat the evil that plagued the Digital World, and understood her place in all of it. She was the Digidestined that had been undervalued, that had been taken in by the Darkness, that had been used. Which meant she was the one the Lord of Darkness was willing to turn his back to.

As Myotismon spoke, his words barely registered to Taylor, a new resolve filling her mind and pushing out all other thoughts. She could see her black Digivice, one corner poking out of the pocket where Myotismon had hidden it.

Halomon, his feathers illuminating the threatening figure before them, caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Behind Myotismon, he could see the shape of a girl, moving swiftly and quietly towards the vampiric Digimon. His eyes shifted to her, recognition dawning in his features as he realized it was Taylor. Her expression was hard, a hint of anger shining through as she silently reached up towards Myotismon.

Myotismon could see the change in Halomon’s face, saw how he shifted his gaze. Too late, he turned, shocked to find Taylor in the dark hallway behind him. She was clutching her Digivice.

The smirk finally faded from his face as he locked eyes with the girl, seeing the seething hatred in her gaze. She was enveloped in code, and he could see no more, the darkness of her transformation sucking the light from the room.

\---

Myotismon watched with annoyance as Taylor Digivolved. This had not been part of his plan. It would take some time to regain her trust after this, especially after that glare she’d given him.

Ametridamon now stood before him, eyes shining with rage, still free from the faceplate he’d coded into her spirit. Perhaps, he thought, she would still bend to his commands…

“Ametridamon. **_Stand down_ **.” He called out, his voice authoritative. What looked like a snarl, but could have been an attempt at a smile, spread across her monstrous face.

“ _No_.” She growled, teeth bared. The word echoed through the chamber, each reverberation attempting to drill the message deeper and deeper.

She leapt at him.

The force of her attack carried them both forward, toward the portal. Ametridamon dug her powerful talons into his body, dragging him along as she flapped her massive wings. 

One great sweep of her wings was all it took, and they were both plummeting through the sky, spinning as Myotismon struggled against her. She released him, and laughed cruelly.

“Too late,” she growled. “ _Too late_.”

“Why?” Myotismon howled in response, ineffectually clawing the air as they fell. “I would have given you _everything_ ! The world would have been _ours_!”

“I would have been your _prisoner,_ ” Ametridamon responded. Her limbs were weakening, shrinking back to a human size. Myotismon tried to grab at her, but they were drifting apart as they fell, even his long arms now unable to reach the Digidestined.

“I’ll find you,” he fixed his gaze on her as they fell away from each other. “And you’ll learn what it _means_ to be a _prisoner_.”

\---

The four Digidestined watched as thecreatures of darkness fell towards Earth.

“Did… she just defeat the Darkness?” Stygiomon asked, perplexed.

“I don’t know,” Lopmon responded, similarly dumbfounded.

“Yeah,” Impmon piped up. “Does throwing him through a portal count as ‘defeating’?”

“I don’t think so. She just moved the Darkness somewhere else. Back to _our_ world,” Bombardiermon’s voice was grave. “Who knows what kind of havoc a Digimon of his power could wreak on Earth?”

“We need to go back,” Centuriomon sheathed her arrows and stepped toward the portal. “We have to stop him, once and for all.”

“I knew it,” Halomon said quietly. “I knew she was still on our side.”

“You were right, Darius,” Stygiomon stepped forward, patting the bird’s haunch with her massive claws. “Now let’s go help her.”

"Impmon, you go with the humans," Lopmon said, her voice distant as she spoke.

"Aren't you coming?" Impmon asked, turning to the rabbit Digimon.

"Someone has to stay and close the portal. We can't leave it here, open, for just any Digimon to step through," Lopmon responded, trying to smile through her despair. "Take care of them okay?"

"O-okay... I will," Impmon responded, sad to be leaving his companion. "We'll be back in no time. Hold down the fort for us, would ya?" He winked at her, his voice nearly returning to its usual flippant tone.

The five figures stepped toward the light, waving to Lopmon. She raised a paw to them, her heart heavy with anxiety as she watched their silhouettes fall away, back to Earth. To a world where a powerful Digimon waited to destroy them.


End file.
